THE  J.  PAUL  GETTY  MUSEUM  LIBRARY 


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The  Lite  and  Letters 

of 

Sir  John  Everett  Millais 


\ 


The 


Life  and  Letters 

of 

Sir  John  Everett  Millais 

PRESIDENT  OF  THE  ROYAL  ACADEMY 


BY  HIS  SON 

JOHN  GUILLE  MILLAIS 

AUTHOR  OF 

“A  BREATH  FROM  THE  VELDT,”  AND  “BRITISH  DEER  AND  THEIR  HORNS” 


WITH  316  ILLUSTRATIONS 


VOL.  I. 


NEW  YORK 

FREDERICK  A.  STOKES  COMPANY 


MDCCCXCIX 


Copyright,  i8qq 

By  Frederick  A.  Stokes  Company 


2Snibcrsitg  Press 

John  Wilson  and  Son,  Cambridge,  U.  S.  A 


J.  PAUL  Gc.fi  Y IViUocuivi  uoi 

.THE  J.  PAUL  Gi_i  i i 


<Ai\m 

'RY 


Jftemorg 

OF 

MY  DEAR  FATHER  AND  MOTHER 


I DEDICATE  THESE  VOLUMES 


PREFACE 


HE  task  of  selecting  from  such  a vast  mass  of  material 


as  has  been  kindly  placed  at  my  disposal  by  friends 
and  relatives  has  been  no  easy  one,  and  I venture  to  hope 
that,  so  far  as  I may  have  exceeded  my  duty  as  a biographer, 
the  interest  of  the  extraneous  matter  may,  in  some  measure 
at  least,  atone  for  its  admission. 

I cannot  adequately  thank  the  many  friends  who  have  so 
generously  helped  me  with  contributions,  or  in  allowing 
me  the  free  use  of  their  pictures  for  these  pages.  To 
Messrs.  Graves  and  Son,  Thomas  Agnew,  Arthur  Tooth 
and  Sons,  Thomas  McLean  and  Sons,  and  the  Fine  Art 
Society  my  special  thanks  are  due  for  liberty  to  avail  my- 
self of  their  copyrights;  but  most  of  all  am  I indebted  to 
my  father-in-law,  Mr.  P.  G.  Skipwith,  for  his  invaluable 
assistance  in  preparing  this  work  for  the  press. 


JOHN  GUILLE  MILLAIS. 


Melwood,  Horsham, 
July , 1S99. 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER  I 

PAGB 

The  birth  of  Millais  — His  parents  — Early  days  in  St.  Heliers  — A mother 
who  educates  and  helps  him  — School  a failure  — The  Lemprieres  — First 
efforts  in  Art  — The  family  move  to  Dinan  — The  Drum  major’s  portrait  — 
Return  to  St.  Heliers  — Millais  goes  to  London  with  his  mother  — Sir 
Martin  Shee’s  advice  — Millais  enters  Mr.  Sass’s  school,  and  gains  the 
silver  medal  of  the  Society  of  Arts  — His  love  of  fishing  — Original 
amusement  — He  enters  the  Royal  Academy  — Early  successes  — Anec- 
dotes of  the  poet  Rogers  — William  Wordsworth  — Oxford’s  attempt  on 
the  Queen’s  life  — Millais  as  an  Academy  student  — General  Arthur 
Lempriere  on  Millais  as  a boy — Poem  on  students’  life — Sergeant 
Thomas  — First  visit  to  Oxford  — Mr.  Wyatt  — Mr.  Drury  — “ Cymon 
and  Iphigenia”  — “ Grandfather  and  Child  ” ......  I 

CHAPTER  II 

PRE-RAPHAEL1TISM  : ITS  MEANING  AND  ITS  HISTORY 

First  meeting  of  Hunt  and  Millais  — The  Pedantry  of  Art  — Hunt  admitted 
to  the  R.A.  — They  work  together  in  Millais’ studio  — Reciprocal  Re- 
lief— The  Birth  of  Pre-Raphaelitism  — The  name  chosen  — The  meeting 
of  Hunt  and  D.  G.  Rossetti  — First  gathering  of  the  Brotherhood  — The 
so-called  influence  of  Rossetti  — Millais  explains  — The  critics  at  sea  — 

D.  G.  Rossetti  — Ruskin  — Max  Nordau — The  aims  of  Pre-Raphael- 
itism — Cyclographic  Club  — Madox  Brown  — “ The  Germ  ” — Millais’ 
story 43 


CHAPTER  III 

“Lorenzo  and  Isabella” — A prime  joke  — “Christ  in  the  home  of  His 
parents”  — The  onslaught  of  the  critics  — Charles  Dickens  unfavour- 
able— Millais  at  work  — The  newspapers  send  him  to  Australia — The 
P.R.B.  draw  each  other  for  Woolner  — The  bricklayer’s  opinion  — The 
elusive  nugget — “Ferdinand  lured  by  Ariel”  — The  ultra-cautious 
dealer — Millais  at  the  theatre  painting  portraits — His  sale  of  “ Ferdi- 
nand ” — Mr.  Stephens  tells  of  his  sittings  for  “Ferdinand’s”  head  — 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  Thomas  Combe  — Their  kindness  to  Millais  — Millais’  let- 
ter to  the  Combes — His  life  in  London  — The  Collins  family  — Letters 
about  “ The  Woodman’s  Daughter  ” and  “ The  Flood  ” — “ Mariana  ” — - 
An  obliging  mouse  — “The  Woodman’s  Daughter”  — William  Millais 
on  the  picture  — The  artist’s  devotion  to  truth— Ruskin  on  the  Pre- 
Raphaelites — He  champions  their  cause  — His  unreliability  as  a critic  . 69 


X CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  IV 

Millais  commences  “ Ophelia  ” — Holman  Hunt,  Charles  Collins,  William 
and  John  Millais  paint  at  Worcester  Park  Farm  — Further  letters  to  the 
Combes  — Millais  thinks  of  going  to  the  Fast  — Commencement  of 
diary  and  “ The  Huguenot”  — Hunt  at  work  on  “The  Light  of  the 
World  ” and  “ The  Hireling  Shepherd  ” — Collins’  last  picture — Millais’ 
idea  for  “ The  Huguenot  ” — He  argues  it  out  with  Hunt  — Meets  an  old 
sweetheart  — Returns  to  Gower  Street — Miss  Siddal’s  sufferings  as 
model  for  “ Ophelia  ’ — Success  of  “ Ophelia  ” — Arthur  Hughes  and 
Millais — Critics  of  1852  — Woman  in  Art  — General  Lempriere  on  his 
sittings  for  “The  Huguenot  Miss  Ryan  — Miller,  of  Preston  — 
Letters  from  Gower  Street 


CHAPTER  V 

1852- 1853. 

The  Volunteer  movement  — Reminiscences  of  Turner — Meeting  with  Thack- 
eray — Millais  proposes  to  paint  “ Romeo  and  J uliet  ’’  — Goes  to  “ George 
Inn”  at  Hayes — Begins  painting  “The  Proscribed  Royalist”  — Arthur 
Hughes  on  his  sittings — Millais  in  the  hunting  field  — “ The  Order  of 
Release  ” — Models  for  this  picture  — Funeral  of  the  Duke  of  Wellington 
- — Amusing  letter  to  Mr.  Hodgkinson — ■ Millais’  first  expedition  to  Scot- 
land— With  the  Ruskins  to  Northumberland  and  thence  to  Callander — 
Their  life  in  the  North  — Discussion  on  architecture  — Dr.  Acland 
— The  Free  Kirk  in  1852  — Meeting  with  Gambart  and  Rosa  Bonheur — - 
Millais’  comic  sketch-book  — He  is  slighted  by  the  Academy  — Foreboding 
on  the  election  day — He  is  made  an  A.  R.  A.  . . . . . .152 

CHAPTER  VI 

1853- 1855. 

End  of  the  Pre-Raphaelite  Brotherhood  — Walter  Deverell  — His  illness  and 
death  — Holman  Hunt  in  the  East  — Letters  from  him  — “ The  Scape- 
goat ” — “ The  Blind  Girl  ” and  “ L’Enfant  du  Regiment  ” — Winchelsea  — 
Thackeray  writes  whilst  Millais  paints  — An  eccentric  vicar  — Success  of 
“ The  Blind  Girl  ” — Ruskin’s  description  of  it  — John  Luard  — Millais 
in  Scotland  with  Halliday,  Luard,  and  Charles  Collins  — Paris  Exhibition 
of  1855 — The  English  school  at  last  recognised  — How  the  “ Rescue  ” 
came  to  be  painted  — Letters  from  Dickens  — Models  for  “ The  Rescue  ” 
and  criticisms  on  it  — Appreciation  by  Thomas  Spencer  Baynes  — Millais 
loses  his  temper  and  speaks  out  — Beneficial  result  — Firemen  at  work  — 
Letters  from  William  Allingham  — Frederick  Leighton  ....  222 

CHAPTER  VII 

LEECH,  THACKERAY,  WILKIE  COLLINS,  AND 
ANTHONY  TROLLOPE 

Millais’  affection  for  Leech  — His  first  top-boots  — “Mr.  Tom  Noddy”  — 
Millais  introduces  “ Mr.  Briggs  ” to  the  delight  of  salmon  fishing  — The 
Duke  of  Athol  and  Leech  — - Letters  from  Leech  — The  ghost  of  Cowdray 
Hall — Death  of  Leech  — His  funeral  — The  pension  for  Leech’s  family  — 
Letter  from  Charles  Dickens  — Thackeray  — The  littleness  of  earthly 
fame  — Wilkie  Collins  — True  origin  of  The  Woman  in  White  — 
Anthony  Trollope — Letters  from  him  ......  . 261 


CONTENTS 


xi 


CHAPTER  VIII 

PAGE 

Millais’  marriage  — Life  in  Scotland — first  visitors  A poaching  keeper 
“ Peace  Concluded  ” — “ Autumn  Leaves  ’’—Millais’  life  in  chambers  — 
Serious  war  with  the  critics — He  is  attacked  on  all  sides  ■’lhe  1 i?nes 
tramples  upon  him  — The  public  support  him  — Marochetti  Millais  on 
Press  criticism  — Charles  Reade — Birth  of  a son  “lot-pouni 
The  advantages  of  being  punctual  — “ Sir  Isumbras  ” received  with 
abuse  — Sandys’  clever  skit— Sale  of  “Sir  Isumbras”— Letters  from 
Charles  Reade  — “ Escape  of  the  Heretic  ” — “ The  Crusader’s  Return  ”— 

« The  Vale  of  Rest”  — The  artist’s  difficulties  overcome  — Anecdotes  of 
“ The  Vale  of  Rest”  and  “ The  Love  of  James  I.” 28 7 


CHAPTER  IX 

The  struggle  of  1859  — Millais  seriously  feels  the  attacks  made  upon  him, 
but  determines  to  fight  — Insulted  at  every  turn  — Origin  of  “ The  Vale 
of  Rest” — The  fight  for  independence  — “The  Black  Brunswicker”  — 
Millais  describes  it  — Dickens’  daughter  sits  for  the  lady — Mrs.  Perugini 
describes  her  sittings  — Faint  praise  from  the  Press — Great  success  of 
the  picture  — Holman  Hunt  likewise  successful  — Millais’  black-and-white 
work — Letters  to  his  wife  — Lady  Waterford  ......  335 


CHAPTER  X 

1861-1867 

A holiday  in  Sutherlandshire  — “The  Eve  of  St.  Agnes” — Comfortless 
surroundings  — Death  of  Thackeray  — His  Funeral  — “My  First  Ser- 
mon ” — Pictures  of  1863  — Paints  Tom  Taylor’s  son  — Letter  from  Tom 
Taylor  — “ Esther  ” — Gordon’s  yellow  jacket  — “ The  Romans  Leaving 
Britain  ” — Letter  from  Anne  Thackeray  Ritchie  — “ Waking  ” — In 
Scotland  with  Sir  William  Harcourt  and  Mr.  Reginald  Cholmondeley — - 
Meeting  with  Dr.  Livingstone — Livingstone  in  pursuit  of  salmon  — 
Millais  goes  abroad  with  his  wife,  Sir  William  Harcourt,  and  Sir  Henry 
Layard  — He  buys  Michael  Angelo’s  “ Leda  and  the  Swan  ” — Memorable 
evening  at  “ Villa  Spence”  — Adelina  Patti  as  a dancer  — Makes  the 
acquaintance  of  Liszt  — They  travel  with  Mario  — “ Waking  ” — The 
Callander  shootings — -Amusing  Letter  from  Sir  William  Harcourt  — 
Letter  to  William  Fenn — A deer  drive  in  Glen  Artney  ....  367 


CHAPTER  XI 

II  O L M A N HUNT 

A great  friendship,  and  a spur  to  noble  ambition  — Cairo  in  1854 — The 
donkey  and  the  buffalo  — A human  parallel  — The  Jewish  model,  a shy 
bird  — The  difficulties  and  dangers  of  life  in  and  around  Jerusalem 
in  1S54 — Adventure  at  the  Brook  Keritli  — Reflections  on  life  — Millais 
must  put  forth  all  his  strength — A final  tribute 402 


CONTENTS 


xii 


CHAPTER  XII 

1865-1880 

Three  historic  gatherings  — The  parties  at  Strawberry  Hill  — Millais’  personal 
friends — Letters  from  D’Epine,  Luder  Barnay,  and  Jan  van  Beers  — 
Mrs.  Jopling-Rowe’s  recollections  of  Millais  — O’Neil,  painter  and  poet  — 
Fred  Walker  — Professor  Owen  — Robert  Browning  — Browning  on  the 
art  of  poetry  — Visit  to  Marochetti  ........ 


PAGE 


417 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS 


PHOTOGRAVURES 

Sir  John  Everett  Millais,  Bart.,  B.R.A.  (from  the  autograph  portrait  in  the  pace 
Uffizzi  Gallery)  ...........  Frontispiece 

L’Enfant  du  Regiment 240 

The  Vale  of  Rest 332 

The  Knight  Errant 390 

ILLUSTRATIONS 

Captain  Edward  Millais.  1760 2 

John  William  Millais 3 

John  Evamy 4 

Mary  Millais  (Millais’  mother) • 5 

Shakespearian  Character  ............  S 

Hogarthian  Characters  in  a Witness-box - 9 

Melee  in  a Banqueting-hall . 10 

Scene  from  “ Peveril  of  the  Peak” 11 

Portrait  of  an  Old  Gentleman 13 

Millais,  by  John  Phillip,  R.A 15 

Hunting  Scene 17 

Lovers  under  a Tree  19 

Sketches  made  at  Lord’s 22 

The  Benjamites  Seizing  their  Brides 23 

Cupid  Crowned  with  Flowers  ...........  24 

Mary  Hodgkinson  .............  26 

Hatfield  House  ..............  29 

View  from  Millais’  Home,  Near  St.  Heliers  ........  30 

Cover  of  Millais’  Book  on  Armour.  1845  ........  31 

A Page  from  Millais’  Book  on  Armour  .........  32 

A Page  from  Millais’  Book  on  Armour  .........  33 

Photograph  of  the  first  Cheque  received  by  Millais  . ......  35 

Emily  Millais  (afterwards  Mrs.  Wallack)  .........  36 

Title-page  of  a Book  of  Poems  ..........  37 

Pizarro  Seizing  the  Inca  of  Peru  ..........  39 

Mr.  Drury  and  Millais  take  the  Air  ..........  41 

Study  of  an  Actor  .............  42 

Childhood 44 

Y outh 44 

Manhood 4 c; 

Age 45 

Cymon  and  Iphigenia  ............  47 

Sketch  for  Pre-Raphaelite  Etching  ..........  51 

Mr.  Wyatt  and  his  Grandchild  ...........  53 

Pre-Raphaelite  Sketch  ............  58 

Canterbury  Pilgrims  .............  59 


XIV 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS 


PAGE 

The  Disen tombment  of  Queen  Matilda  .........  63 

Drawing  for  The  Germ  ............  65 

Pencil-drawing  for  Etching,  intended  to  have  been  used  in  The  Germ  ...  67 

Head  of  D.  G.  Rossetti  . . 70 

Lorenzo  and  Isabella  ............  71 

Original  design  for  “Christ  in  the  House  of  Ilis  Parents”  .....  76 

Design  for  “Christ  in  the  House  of  His  Parents”  .......  77 

Christ  in  the  House  of  His  Parents  ..........  79 

First  sketch  for  “ Ferdinand  Lured  by  Ariel  84 

Ferdinand  Lured  by  Ariel 85 

Pencil  design  for  “ The  Woodman’s  Daughter  ” .......  92 

Design  for  a picture,  “ The  Deluge  ” 95 

Sketch  for  “Mariana”  ............  104 

Sketches  for  “Mariana”  and  “The  Return  of  the  Dove” 105 

Mariana  ...............  107 

The  Woodman’s  Daughter  ...........  1 13 

Ophelia  . . . ............  1 17 

Design  for  a picture  of  “ Romeo  and  Juliet”  ........  120 

The  Last  Scene,  “ Romeo  and  Juliet  ” . . . 121 

The  Huguenot.  First  idea 130 

The  Huguenot.  Second  idea 131 

The  Pluguenot.  Third  idea  ...........  136 

The  Pluguenot.  Fourth  idea  ...........  137 

The  Huguenot.  Fifth  idea 138 

The  Pluguenot  ..............  139 

The  Race-meeting  .............  153 

Study  for  “ The  Royalist  ” 156 

Millais  on  the  way  to  paint  “ The  Royalist.”  By  W.  Millais 157 

Millais  at  Dinner.  By  W.  Millais 158 

Millais  painting  the  background  of  “The  Royalist” 160 

Dinner  at  “The  George”  Inn,  Hayes.  By  W.  Millais  ......  161 

“ Millais’ Oak,”  Hayes,  Kent 166 

Tourists  at  the  Inn 167 

Sketch  for  “ The  Order  of  Release  ” 169 

Further  sketch  for  “ The  Order  of  Release  ” 170 

The  Royalist 173 

Head  of  a Girl 1 7 5 

Robert  Bruce  and  the  Spider  ...........  176 

Black  Agnes  dusting  Dunbar  Castle 1 77 

Imitations  of  Velasquez 179 

The  Order  of  Release  ............  181 

Lord  James  Douglas  provides  for  the  Royal  Household 183 

Bruce  at  the  Siege  of  Acre  ............  184 

Enter  Lord  and  Lady  Fiddledidee  ..........  185 

Accepted  ...............  1S7 

The  Blind  Man *93 

Crossing  the  Border.  By  W.  Millais T95 

Close  Quarters 

The  Tourist’s  Highland  Reel  1 97 

Fishing  in  Loch  Achray  ............  *9° 

The  Romans  Leaving  Britain.  Pen  drawing  ........  f99 

Sir  Henry  Acland  202 

A Wet  Day’s  Pastime  203 

Design  for  a Gothic  Window  ...........  204 

William  Millais  at  Work  ............  205 

The  Idle  and  the  Industrious  Painter  206 

The  Dying  Man  207 

Kirk  210 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS 


xv 


The  Best  Day’s  Sketching 

The  Countess  as  Barber 

Virtue  and  Vice  ............ 

Wayside  Refreshment 

Sir  Henry  Acland  assists  a certain  Lady 

A certain  Lady  Painting 

Away-ye-ga 

Euphemia  Chalmers  Gray 

Waiting  .............. 

Retribution 

Prince  Charlie  in  a Highland  Farmhouse 

The  Prisoner’s  Wife  . 

The  Ghost  .............. 

Mike  in  Shirt  plying  his  Needle 

The  Start  to  Aytoun 

Our  kind  Host  enters  in  his  Dressing-gown 

Catastrophes  during  Day’s  Sport 

Plow  instantly  the  A.R.A.  outwalked  his  Companion 

How  the  Representative  of  R.A.  was  embarrassed  with  Straps 

How  we  took  a Dog-cart 

The  Newly-painted  Door  ........... 

How  the  Wind  distressed  the  Two  Travellers  ....... 

How  C.  C.  gave  out  ............ 

Long  John,  notorious  Distiller,  enters  into  Conversation  .... 

How  Long  John  makes  another  Long  John  partake  of  “overproof”  Whiskey 
How  C.  C.  forgot  himself  and  Craves  for  Salmon-fishing  .... 

How  on  the  top  of  the  Coach  the  Weather  was  unfavourable 

How  we  Warmed  Ourselves  at  the  Steamer  Stove  ...... 

St.  Agnes 

Rejected  .............. 

John  Leech.  Pencil  sketch 

John  Leech  .............. 

Millais  Hunting.  By  Leech 

Millais  Fishing.  By  Leech 

The  Duke  of  Wellington.  By  Leech  ........ 

Part  of  a Letter  from  Leech  to  Millais 

Wilkie  Collins  . .1 

Euphemia  Chalmers  Gray.  Water-colour  ....... 

Bell  in  Winterton  Church.  By  John  Luard  ....... 

Winterton  Church  Bells.  By  John  Luard  ....... 

Studies  for  “ Edward  Gray” 

Alice  Gray  .............. 

Study  for  Tennyson  Illustrations  ......... 

Study  for  Tennyson  Illustrations  ......... 

The  Rescue  ............. 

Sketch  for  Tennyson  Illustrations  ......... 

Sketch  for  St.  Agnes  ........... 

The  Blind  Girl  ............. 

Roswell  .............. 

First  sketch  for  “ Peace  Concluded  ” 

Sketch  for  “The  Crusaders”  .......... 

First  sketch  for  “ Sir  Isumbras  ” ......... 

Sir  Isumbras  ............. 

Mother  and  Child . 

Study  of  a Child 

Sketch  for  Tennyson  Illustrations  ......  . 

Skit  on  “ Sir  Isumbras.”  By  Fred.  Sandys 

Apple  Blossoms  . 


PAGE 

21 1 

212 

213 

215 

216 

217 

218 

219 

223 

227 

229 

23' 

233 

237 

23s 

239 

240 

241 

242 

243 

244 

246 

247 

245 

250 

251 

252 

253 
255 

255 

262 

263 

266 

267 
271 

273 

279 

256 
28S 
289 

292 

293 

298 

299 

30 ' 

3°4 
305 
3°  7 
3°9 
3'° 
3” 
312 

3>S 
3 1 7 
3iS 

.I2© 

32' 

325 


XVI 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS 


PAGE 

Sketch  for  “ Ruth  327 

Sketch  for  Illustration 330 

Sketch  for  Illustration  . 331 

Sophia  Gray 334 

The  Bride 337 

Sketch  for  “ The  Black  Brunswicker  ” .........  339 

Sketch  for  “ The  Black  Brunswicker  ” .........  341 

Sketch  of  Miss  Kate  Dickens  ...........  346 

Sketch  of  Miss  Kate  Dickens 347 

The  Black  Brunswicker  ............  331 

Old  Wall  of  Balhousie  Castle,  Perth 361 

Design  for  “ The  Ransom  364 

“ Swallow  ! Swallow  369 

Sketch  for  “ The  Eve  of  St.  Agnes  ” 373 

The  Eve  of  St.  Agnes 375 

My  Second  Sermon  .............  380 

Leisure  Hours  .............  3S1 

The  Romans  leaving  Britain  ...........  387 

Sleeping 393 

Waking  ...............  399 

The  Parable  of  the  Sower  ............  403 

Sketch  for  “ The  Parable  of  the  Good  Samaritan  ” 405 

The  Parable  of  the  Good  Samaritan  .........  406 

The  Evil  One  Sowing  Tares 407 

The  Parable  of  the  Prodigal  Son  ..........  409 

The  Parable  of  the  Unjust  Judge 411 

Chelsea  Pensioners  at  the  Tomb  of  Nelson 413 

Sketches  for  “ The  Crown  of  Love  ” 418 

The  Minuet  ..............  419 

The  Widow’s  Mite  .............  425 

Studies  of  Frogs 427 

The  Gambler’s  Wife  .............  431 

Mrs.  Heugh 437 

Mrs.  Jopling 441 


THE  LIFE  AND  LETTERS 

OF 

SIR  JOHN  EVERETT  MILLAIS 


CHAPTER  I 


The  birth  of  Millais  — His  parents  — Early  days  in  St.  Heliers  — A mother  who 
educates  and  helps  him  — School  a failure  — The  Lemprieres  — First  efforts  in 
Art  — The  family  move  to  Dinan  — The  Drum-major’s  portrait  — Return  to 
St.  Heliers  — Millais  goes  to  London  with  his  mother — Sir  Martin  Shee’s 
advice  — Millais  enters  Mr.  S ass’  School,  and  gains  the  silver  medal  of  the 
Society  of  Arts  — His  love  of  fishing  — Original  amusement — He  enters  the 
Royal  Academy  — Early  successes  — Anecdotes  of  the  poet  Rogers  — William 
Wordsworth  — Oxford’s  attempt  on  the  Queen’s  life — Millais  as  an  Academy 
student  — General  Arthur  Lempriere  on  Millais  as  a boy  — Poem  on  students’ 
life — -Sergeant  Thomas  — First  visit  to  Oxford — Mr.  Wyatt  — Mr.  Drury  — 
“ Cymon  and  Iphigenia”  — “ Grandfather  and  Child.” 

I 

IT  was  at  Southampton  on  the  8th  of  June,  1829,  that  the 
late  Sir  J.  E.  Millais  made  his  first  appearance  in  the 
world  as  the  youngest  son  of  Mr.  John  William  Millais, 
the  descendant  of  an  old  Norman  family  resident  in  Jersey, 
where  for  many  years  he  held  a commission  in  the  Island 
Militia.  There,  according  to  local  tradition,  John  William 
Millais  and  his  ancestors  had  been  settled  ever  since  the 
time  of  the  Conquest.  He  was  a man  of  fine  presence  and 
undeniable  talent,  being  not  only  a very  fair  artist  but  an 
excellent  musician,  with  command  of  four  or  five  different 
instruments.  But  with  all  his  gifts  he  was  a man  of  no 
ambition  save  where  his  children  were  concerned,  and  desired 
nothing  more  than  the  life  he  led  as  a quiet  country  gentle- 
man. My  uncle,  William  Millais,  describes  him  as  a typical 
old  troubadour,  who  won  all  hearts  by  his  good  looks  and 
charming  manners,  and  was  known  in  his  younger  days  as 
the  handsomest  man  in  the  island. 


1 — 1 


JOHN  EVERETT  MILLAIS 


[1833^ 


When  quite  a young  man  he  chanced  to  meet  an  English- 
woman of  gentle  birth  and  great  natural  wit  and  cleverness, 
whose  maiden  name  was  Evamy,  but  who  was  then  the 
widow  of  a Mr.  Hodgkinson ; and,  falling  in  love  with  each 

other  at  first  sight,  they  soon 
afterwards  married. 

Mrs.  Hodgkinson  had  two 
sons  by  her  first  husband  — 
Henry,  who  lived  a quiet  life, 
and  recently  left  to  the  nation 
two  of  my  father’s  best  works ; 
and  Clement,  who  greatly  dis- 
tinguished himself  as  an  explorer 
in  the  wilds  of  Australia.  In 
the  old  days  Clement  was  the 
principal  A.D.C.  of  Sir  Thomas 
Mitchell,  and  himself  discovered 
several  gold-fields  in  Northern 
Australia. 

My  grandparents,  JohnWilliam 
and  Emily  Mary  Millais,  at  first 
settled  at  “ Le  Quaihouse,”  just 
out  of  St.  Heliers,  where  their 
daughter  Emily  Mary  was  born;  but  later  on  they  re- 
moved to  Southampton,  where  my  uncle  William  Henry 
and  afterwards  my  father,  were  added  to  the  family.  They 
presently,  however,  returned  to  Jersey,  where,  at  the  age 
of  four  years,  my  father’s  inborn  love  of  Natural  History 
— a love  that  lasted  his  lifetime  — found  means  of  develop- 
ment. At  St.  Heliers  some  choice  sand-eels  offered  an  easy 
capture.  The  rocks  too  abounded  with  novelties  in  the  shape 
of  “slow,  sly  things  with  circumspective  eyes”;  and  at  the 
pier-head  no  end  of  little  fish  were  waiting  to  be  caught. 
Here,  then,  was  Elysium  to  the  young  naturalist.  To  one 
or  other  of  these  places  he  sped  away  whenever  he  could 
escape  from  parental  control,  regardless  of  the  admonitions 
of  his  mother,  whose  anxiety  on  these  occasions  was  hardly 
compensated  by  the  treasures  of  the  beach  with  which  he 
stocked  all  the  baths  and  basins  of  the  household,  or  by  the 
advance  in  learning  he  displayed  in  naming  correctly  every- 
thing in  his  collection. 

There  too,  at  St.  Heliers,  his  taste  for  drawing  began 
to  show  itself.  Encouraged  by  his  mother,  who  quickly 


CAPTAIN  EDWARD  MILLAIS,  1760 
(Millais’  Grandfather) 

From  a miniature 


O CfQ 


1335] 


FIRST  EFFORTS  IN  ART 


3 


discerned  the  boy’s  special  gift,  he  devoted  much  of  his  time 
to  sketching,  and  was  never  more  happy  than  when  his 
pencil  was  thus  engaged.  Birds  and  butterflies  proved  a 
reat  attraction,  but  it  mattered  little  to  him  what  was  the 
bject  so  long  as  he  could  express  it  on  paper.  Draw  he 
must,  and  did  at  every  spare  moment. 

In  his  maternal  grandfather,  John  Evamy  — a dear  old 
man  whom  he  greatly  admired,  mainly  because  of  his  skill 
as  a fisherman  — he  found  a delightful  companion;  and  one 


JOHN  WILLIAM  MILLAIS  (Millais’  Father) 

In  fancy  dress.  Circ.  1870 

of  his  earliest  sketches,  done  in  pencil  at  eight  years  of  age, 
gives  an  excellent  idea  of  this  old  gentleman  engrossed  in 
his  favourite  pursuit. 

But  Millais’  truest  and  most  helpful  friend  was  his  mother, 
whose  love  and  foresight  did  so  much  to  advance  his  aims 
and  ambition,  putting  him  in  the  right  path  from  the  very 
outset.  She  herself  undertook  the  greater  part  of  his  educa- 
tion, and,  being  more  gifted  than  most  women,  grounded  him 
in  history,  poetry,  literature,  etc.,  knowledge  of  costume  and 
armour,  all  of  which  was  of  the  greatest  use  to  him  in  his 
career;  indeed,  my  father  used  often  to  say  to  us  in  after 
years,  “ I owe  everything  to  my  mother.” 


4 JOHN  EVERETT  MILLAIS  [is33- 

One  attempt  was  made  to  send  him  to  school,  but  it  ended 
in  miserable  failure.  Throughout  his  life  restrictions  of  any 
sort  were  hateful  to  him  — what  he  would  not  do  for  love  he 
would  not  do  at  all  — so  when,  after  two  days  at  school,  the 
master  tried  to  thrash  him  for  disobedience,  the  boy  turned 
and  bit  his  hand  severely  — a misdemeanour  for  which  he  was 


,'*7l 


JOHN  EVAMY  (Millais’  Maternal  Uncle) 
Drawn  from  life  at  the  age  of  eight 


immediately  expelled.  A happy  day  this  for  him,  for  his 
mother  then  resumed  her  work  of  tuition,  and  her  method 
of  teaching,  in  opposition  to  that  of  the  old  dry-as-dust 
schools,  led  the  child  to  love  his  lessons  instead  of  hating 
them. 

My  uncle  William  made  an  excellent  water-colour  portrait 
of  his  mother,  which  I am  enabled  to  give  here.  I he  reader 
will  see  at  a glance  her  strong  resemblance  to  her  boy  John 
Everett,  presenting  the  same  clever,  determined  mouth,  and 


MARY  MILLAIS  (Millais’  Mother) 

From  a water-colour  by  William  Millais,  executed  about  the  year  1869 


EARLY  DAYS 


JS35] 


7 


the  same  observant  eyes.  Nor  did  the  resemblance  end  here, 
for  she  had  also  the  same  great  love  of  painting  and  music. 

Others  beside  his  mother  very  soon  began  to  see  that  little 
John  Everett  possessed  real  genius,  not  mere  ordinary  talent ; 
and  one  of  his  uncles  was  so  much  impressed  with  this  idea 
that  he  used  frequently  to  say  to  his  children,  “ Mark  my 
words,  that  boy  will  be  a very  great  man  some  day,  if  he 
lives.” 

My  father  never  forgot  the  good  friends  of  his  early  days 
in  Jersey,  but  cherished  a lasting  affection  and  regard  for 
them.  Amongst  those  most  anxious  to  help  in  the  early 
cultivation  of  his  talent  was  a charming  family  named 
Lempriere,  then  resident  in  the  island.  Philip  Raoul 
Lempriere,  the  head  of  the  house  and  Seigneur  of  Roselle 
Manor,  was  a man  whose  personality  made  itself  felt  by 
everyone  with  whom  he  came  into  contact,  his  strikingly 
handsome  appearance  being  enhanced  by  the  dignity  and 
kindliness  of  his  manner;  and  the  same  might  be  said  in 
degree  of  every  member  of  his  family.  To  know  them 
intimately  was  an  education  in  itself;  and,  happily  for  my 
father,  they  took  a great  fancy  to  him,  making  him  ever 
welcome  at  the  house.  There,  then,  he  spent  much  of  his 
time,  and,  as  1 have  heard  him  say,  learned  unconsciously 
to  appreciate  the  beauties  of  Nature  and  Art.  General 
Lempriere,  one  of  the  grandsons  of  the  Seigneur,  I may 
add,  figures  as  “the  Huguenot”  in  the  famous  picture  of 
that  name,  painted  in  1852. 

Roselle,  in  a word,  proved  an  endless  source  of  interest 
and  amusement  to  the  juvenile  artist.  He  could  fish  when 
he  liked  in  ponds  well  stocked  with  perch  and  tench,  and  in 
the  park  was  a fine  herd  of  fallow  deer,  in  which  he  took 
great  delight.  A drawing  of  his  — perhaps  his  best  at  that 
date  — represents  the  tragic  end  of  one  of  those  beautiful 
creatures  that  he  happened  to  witness.  The  circumstance 
impressed  him  deeply  and,  as  he  often  remarked  in  after 
life,  aroused  in  him  the  spirit  of  the  chase,  even  in  those 
early  days  and  amidst  such  calm  surroundings. 

My  father’s  cousin,  Miss  Benest  — a wonderful  old  lady 
of  eighty  — writes:  “When  he  was  only  four  he  was  con- 
tinually at  work  with  pencil  and  paper,  and  generally  lay 
on  the  floor  covering  sheets  with  all  sorts  of  figures.” 
She  also  mentions,  as  significant  of  the  frank  and  open 
mind  and  the  zeal  for  truth  that  he  retained  to  the  end  of 


8 JOHN  EVERETT  MILLAIS  [is33- 

his  days,  that  “ when  he  did  anything  on  a larger  scale  he 
used  to  come  to  my  father,  throwing  his  arms  round  his 
neck  in  his  affectionate  manner,  saying,  ‘ Uncle,  you  do  not 
always  praise  me  as  the  others  do ; you  show  me  the  faults.'  ” 
His  brother  William  was  exceedingly  clever,  but  without 


SHAKESPEARIAN  CHARACTER 
Original  drawing  by  Millais  at  the  age  of  72  years 


the  same  application  and  industry.  As  a young  man  he 
possessed  a remarkably  fine  tenor  voice,  and  a good  tenor 
being  as  rare  in  those  days  as  it  is  now,  Mario,  after  hearing 
him  sing,  urged  him  strongly  to  go  on  the  stage,  saying  he 
would  make  his  fortune.  But  this  was  far  from  his  idea  of  a 
happy  life.  He  had  no  ambition  to  walk  the  boards,  but 
sang  because  he  loved  it,  and  painted  for  the  same  reason, 


REMOVAL  TO  DINAN 


9 


1835] 

becoming  ultimately  well  known  as  a water-colour  landscape 
artist.  His  unselfish  admiration  for  my  father  knew  no 
bounds;  he  was  always  helping  and  taking  care  of  his 
younger  and  more  delicate  brother,  and  did  much  by  his 
cheery  optimism  and  consummate  tact  to  alleviate  the  hard 
knocks  and  petty  worries  that  assailed  the  young  painter 
whilst  struggling  to  make  a name. 

In  1835  the  family  removed  to  Dinan,  in  Brittany,  where 
a new  interest  awaited  the  budding  artist,  then  in  his  seventh 

O 


HOGARTHIAN  CHARACTERS  IN  A WITNESS-BOX 
Original  study  of  expression  ' 

The  writing  on  the  drawing  is  that  of  the  artist’s  mother 


year.  The  poetry  of  the  place,  as  expressed  in  its  fine 
mediaeval  architecture  and  interpreted  by  a loving  mother, 
took  a great  hold  upon  his  imagination,  setting  his  pencil  to 
work  at  once;  but  joy  of  joys  to  the  juvenile  mind  were 
the  gorgeous  uniforms  of  the  French  officers  stationed  in 
the  neighbourhood.  Of  this  period  William  Millais  sends 
me  some  interesting  notes.  He  says  : “ I well  remember  the 
time  we  spent  together  at  Dinan,  where  our  parents  resided 
for  two  years.  We  were  little  boys  and  cpiite  inseparable, 
he  six  years  old  and  I two  years  his  senior.  Our  greatest 
delight  was  to  watch  the  entry  of  regiments  as  they  passed 


io  JOHN  EVERETT  MILLAIS  [is3S- 

through  the  town  to  and  from  Brest,  and  these  occasions 
were  of  frequent  occurrence.  The  roll-call  generally  took 
place  in  the  Place  aux  Chaines,  and  each  soldier  on  being 
disbanded  was  presented  with  a loaf  of  black  bread,  which 
he  stuck  on  the  point  of  his  bayonet  and  then  shouldered 
his  rifle.  We  usually  sat  under  the  iillculs  of  the  Place 
du  Guesclin,  on  a bench  overlooking  the  soldiers  and  away 
from  the  crowd.  On  one  occasion  we  noticed  an  enormous 
tambour-majeur , literally  burnished  with  gold  trappings,  wear- 
ing a tall  bear-skin  and  flourishing  a huge  gold-headed  cane, 


MELfiE  IN  A BANQUETING-HALL.  183S 


to  the  delight  of  a lot  of  little  gamins.  Jack  at  once  pro- 
duced his  sketch-book  and  pencil,  and  proceeded  to  jot  down 
the  giant  into  his  book.  Whilst  this  was  going  on  we  were 
not  aware  that  two  officers  were  silently  creeping  towards  us, 
and  we  were  quite  awed  when  they  suddenly  uttered  loud 
ejaculations  of  astonishment  at  what  they  had  seen,  for  they 
had  evidently  been  witnesses  of  the  last  touch  made  upon 
the  drum-major.  They  patted  the  little  artist  on  the  back, 
gave  him  some  money,  and  asked  me  where  we  lived.  Our 
house  was  only  a stone ’s-throw  off,  so  we  took  them  up  into 
the  drawing-room,  and  they  talked  for  some  time  with  my 
father  and  mother,  urging  them  most  seriously  to  send  the 
child  at  once  to  Paris,  to  be  educated  in  the  Arts. 


1837] 


RETURN  TO  ST.  HELIERS 


1 1 

“ The  officers  took  the  sketch  back  to  barracks  with  them, 
and  showed  it  in  the  mess  to  their  brothers  in  arms.  None 
of  them  could  believe  that  it  was  the  work  of  a boy  of  six, 
so  bets  were  taken  all  round ; and  one  of  them  went  to  fetch 
little  Millais,  to  prove  their  words.  In  fear  and  trembling  he 
came,  and  soon  showed  that  he  really  had  done  the  drawing 
by  making,  then  and  there,  a still  more  excellent  sketch  — of 
the  colonel  smoking  a cigar.  Those  who  lost  had  to  give  the 
others  a dinner.” 


SCENE  FROM  “PEVERIL  OF  THE  PEAK.”  1S41 
This  is  the  most  elaborate  work  of  Millais’  early  years 


Leaving  Dinan  in  1837,  the  family  again  went  back  to 
St.  Heliers  for  two  or  three  years,  where  Millais  received 
his  first  instructions  in  art  from  a Mr.  Bessel,  the  best 
drawing-master  in  the  island.  Art  was  not  taught  then  as 
it  is  now,  so  the  boy’s  originality  was  curbed  for  the  while 
by  having  to  copy  Julien’s  life-sized  heads.  In  a very  short 
time,  however,  the  drawing-master  told  his  parents  that  he 
could  teach  their  boy  nothing  more;  the  spontaneity  of  his 
work  was  so  marked  that  it  was  a sin  to  restrain  it,  and  that 
they  ought  to  take  him  at  once  to  London  and  give  him  the 
very  best  tuition  to  be  had  there.  To  this  excellent  counsel 
was  added  that  of  the  Lemprieres  and  Sir  Hillgrove-Turner, 


12  JOHN  EVERETT  MILLAIS  [is38- 

then  governor  of  the  island.  Next  year,  therefore,  they 
started  for  London  armed  with  an  introduction  to  Sir  Martin 
Archer  Shee,  p.  r.a.,  and  coaching  from  Southampton  they 
fell  in  with  Mr.  Paxton  (afterwards  Sir  Joseph  Paxton),  of 
whom  William  Millais  writes:  “During  the  journey  Mr. 
Paxton  fell  asleep,  and  Jack  at  once  went  for  him  and  got 
him  into  his  book.  Just  as  he  had  finished  the  sketch  Paxton 
awoke,  and,  seeing  what  had  been  done,  was  so  astonished 
that  he  entered  into  conversation  with  my  mother,  which 
resulted  in  a letter  of  introduction  to  the  President  of  the 
Society  of  Arts,  Adelphi,  where  my  brother  afterwards 
went.” 

Their  first  visit  in  London  was  naturally  to  Sir  Martin 
Archer  Shee,  and  this  is  what  they  heard  from  him  the 
moment  they  explained  the  object  of  their  call : “ Better 
make  him  a chimney-sweep  than  an  artist!  ” But  Sir  Martin 
had  not  then  seen  the  boy’s  drawings.  When  these  were 
produced  he  opened  his  eyes  in  astonishment,  and  could 
hardly  believe  that  they  were  the  production  of  so  childish  a 
hand.  At  last  bis  doubts  were  set  at  rest  by  little  Millais 
sitting  down  and  drawing  the  Light  of  Hector  and  Achilles; 
and  then  with  equal  emphasis  he  recalled  his  first  remark, 
and  declared  that  it  was  the  plain  duty  of  the  parents  to  fit 
the  boy  for  the  vocation  for  which  Nature  had  evidently 
intended  him. 

That  settled  the  matter.  To  the  lad's  great  delight  leave 
was  obtained  for  him  to  sketch  in  the  British  Museum,  where 
for  several  hours  a day  he  diligently  drew  from  the  cast;  and 
in  the  winter  of  1838-39  a vacancy  was  found  for  him  in 
the  best  Art  Academy  of  the  time  — a preparatory  school  at 
Bloomsbury,  kept  by  an  old  gentleman  named  Henry  Sass, 
a portrait  painter  of  repute,  but  whose  works  had  failed  to 
catch  the  fancy  of  the  public.  Several  of  Millais’  school- 
fellows there  are  still  living,  and  remember  him  as  a small, 
delicate-looking  boy,  with  a holland  blouse  and  belt  and  a 
turn-down  collar.  Here  he  was  in  his  element,  drawing  and 
painting  most  of  the  day,  and  spending  all  the  time  he  could 
spare  in  outdoor  pursuits. 

At  Mr.  Sass’,  as  at  most  of  the  schools  of  that  day,  a 
good  deal  of  bullying  went  on,  and  one  of  the  students  (a 
big,  hulking,  lazy  fellow,  whose  name  I suppress  for  reasons 
which  will  presently  appear)  took  a special  delight  in  making 
the  boy’s  life  a burden  to  him.  This  state  of  things  reached 


A RIVAL’S  REVENGE 


13 


1839] 

a climax  when,  at  the  age  of  nine,  young  Millais  gained  the 
silver  medal  of  the  Society  of  Arts,  for  which  this  youth  had 
also  competed.  The  day  following  the  presentation  Millais 
turned  up  as  usual  at  Mr.  Sass’,  and  after  the  morning’s  work 
was  over,  H.  (the  bully),  with  the  help  of  two  other  small 
boys  whom  he  had  compelled  to  remain,  hung  him  head 


PORTRAIT  OF  AN  OLD  GENTLEMAN 
Drawn  at  the  age  of  nine 

downwards  out  of  the  window,  tying  his  legs  up  to  the  iron 
of  the  window-guards  with  scarfs  and  strings.  There  he 
hung  over  the  street  in  a position  which  shortly  made  him 
unconscious,  and  the  end  might  have  been  fatal  had  not 
some  passers-by,  seeing  the  position  of  the  child,  rung  the 


14  JOHN  EVERETT  MILLAIS  [1839 

door-bell  and  secured  his  immediate  release.  Almost  imme- 
diately after  this  H.  left  the  school  — possibly  to  avoid  expul- 
sion — and  failing  as  an  artist,  but  being  strong  and  of  good 
physique,  he  became  a professional  model,  and,  curiously 
enough,  in  after  years  sat  to  my  father  for  several  of  his 
pictures.  Eventually,  however,  he  took  to  drink  and  came 
to  a miserable  end,  leaving  a wife  and  several  children  abso- 
lutely destitute. 

Of  the  occasion  on  which  Millais  received  his  first  medal, 
William  Millais,  who  was  present,  says:  “I  shall  never 
forget  the  Prize-day  at  the  Society  of  Arts  when  my  brother 
had  won  the  silver  medal  for  a larre  drawing  of  ‘ The  Battle 
of  Bannockburn.’  He  was  then  between  nine  and  ten  years 
of  age,  and  the  dress  the  little  fellow  wore  is  vividly  before 
me  as  I write.  He  had  on  a white  plaid  tunic,  with  black 
belt  and  buckle;  short  white  frilled  trousers,  showing  bare 
legs,  with  white  socks  and  patent  leather  shoes ; a large  white 
frilled  collar,  a bright  necktie,  and  his  hair  in  golden  curls. 

“When  the  Secretary,  Mr.  Cocking,  called  out  ‘ Mr . John 
Everett  Millais,’  the  little  lad  walked  up  unseen  by  his 
Royal  Highness  the  Duke  of  Sussex,  who  was  giving  the 
prizes,  and  stood  at  his  raised  desk.  After  a time  the  Duke 
observed  that  ‘ the  gentleman  was  a long  time  coming  up,’ 
to  which  the  Secretary  replied,  ‘ He  is  here,  your  Royal 
H ighness.’  The  Duke  then  stood  up  and  saw  the  boy,  and, 
giving  him  his  stool  to  stand  upon,  the  pretty  little  golden 
head  appeared  above  the  desk. 

“ Unfortunately  the  Duke,  being  weak  as  to  his  eyesight, 
could  make  nothing  of  the  drawing  when  it  was  held  up  to 
him,  in  spite  of  trying  various  glasses;  but  he  was  assured 
that  it  was  a marvellous  performance.  He  patted  my 
brother’s  head  and  wished  him  every  success  in  his  profes- 
sion, at  the  same  time  kindly  begging  him  to  remember  that 
if  at  any  time  he  could  be  of  service  to  him  he  must  not 
hesitate  to  write  and  say  so.  It  so  happened  that  Jack  did 
avail  himself  of  this  kind  offer.  We  had  been  in  the  habit 
of  fishing  every  year  in  the  Serpentine  and  Round  Pond  by 
means  of  tickets  given  to  us  by  Sir  Frederick  Pollock,  then 
Chief  Baron ; but  a day  came  when  this  permission  was 
withheld  from  everyone,  and  then  my  brother  wrote  to  the 
Duke’s  private  Secretary,  and  we  were  again  allowed  to  fish 
there. 

“ In  those  days  the  Round  Pond  at  Kensington  was  a 


MILLAIS,  BY  JOHN  PHILLIP,  R.A.  1841 


1839] 


HOME  LIFE 


J7 


favourite  resort  of  ours.  It  was  not  then,  as  we  see  it  now, 
arranged  in  a circle,  and  tricked  out  with  all  the  finery  of  a 
London  lake.  The  shores  were  fringed  with  flags  and 
rushes,  and  here  and  there  were  little  bays  with  water-lilies. 
There  was  plenty  of  honest  English  mud  too,  in  which  the 
juvenile  angler  could  wade  to  his  heart’s  content,  and  had 
to  do  so  in  order  to  get  his  line  clear  of  the  surrounding 
reeds.  We  used  to  tramp  to  and  from  the  neighbourhood  of 
Bedford  Square,  buying  our  fresh  bait  at  the  ‘ Golden  Perch,’ 
in  Oxford  Street,  on  the  way.  We  were  keen  sportsmen, 


HUNTING  SCENE.  184. 


and  probably  the  pleasure  we  took  in  it  was  not  lessened  by 
the  envy  of  other  little  boys  to  whom  the  privilege  was 
denied.  As  the  result  of  these  expeditions  many  fine  carp, 
perch,  and  roach  were  captured  — at  least  they  appeared  so 
to  us  in  those  early  days.” 

My  uncle  goes  on  to  tell  of  their  home  life  and  the  amuse- 
ments in  which  he  and  his  brother  indulged.  I hey  were 
fond  of  “ playing  at  National  Galleries.” 

“ In  1838-39  we  were  living  in  Charlotte  Street,  Fitzroy 
Square.  I went  to  a private  tutor  in  the  neighbourhood, 
but  my  brother  never  went  to  school  at  all.  He  was  very 
delicate  as  a child,  and  was  still  being  entirely  educated  by 
my  mother,  who  was  an  exceptionally  clever  woman  and  a 
great  reader. 


I — 2 


1 8 JOHN  EVERETT  MILLAIS  [,839- 

“ We  were  both  of  us  mad  upon  Art,  and  we  knew  every 
picture  in  the  National  Gallery  by  heart.  In  our  leisure 
moments  we  resolved  to  start  a National  Gallery  of  our  own, 
and  we  worked  daily  upon  pictures  for  it.  I generally 
undertook  the  landscape  department,  and  coined  no  end 
of  Hoppners,  Ruysdaels,  Turners,  etc.,  whilst  the  Titians, 
Rubens,  Paul  Veroneses,  Correggios  and  Rembrandts  fell 
to  my  brother's  share.  I made  all  the  frames  out  of  tinsel 
off  crackers,  and  we  varnished  our  specimens  to  give  them 
the  appearance  of  works  in  oil. 

“ The  pictures  varied  in  size  from  a visiting-card  to  a large 
envelope.  We  took  off  the  lid  of  a large  deal  box,  and  pre- 
pared the  three  sides  to  receive  our  precious  works.  There 
was  a dado,  a carpet,  and  seats,  and  to  imitate  the  real 
Gallery  a curtain  ran  across  the  opening. 

“ What  joy  it  was  to  us  when  we  thought  we  had  done 
something  wonderful ! I remember  how  we  gloated  over  our 
Cuyp ; a Rembrandt  too  was  my  brother’s  masterpiece,  and 
the  use  of  burnt  lucifer  matches  in  the  darker  parts  was  most 
effective,  and  certainly  original.  When  anyone  called  to  see 
us  it  was  our  greatest  pride  to  exhibit  our  National  Gallery.” 

At  the  age  of  ten  Millais  was  admitted  a student  of 
the  Royal  Academy,  the  youngest  student  who  ever  found 
entrance  within  its  walls,  and  during  his  six  years  there  he 
carried  off  in  turn  every  honour  the  Academy  had  to  bestow. 
At  thirteen  he  won  a medal  for  a drawing  from  the  antique, 
at  fourteen  he  began  to  paint,  and  at  seventeen,  after  taking 
the  “ gold  medal  ” for  an  oil  painting  called  “ The  Benjamites 
Seizing  their  Brides,”  he  contributed  to  the  annual  exhibition 
a canvas  which  was  placed  by  a French  critic  on  a level  with 
the  best  historical  work  of  the  year.  It  was  the  picture  of 
“ Pizarro  Seizing  the  Inca  of  Peru,”  and  was  exhibited  some 
few  years  ago  in  the  galleries  at  South  Kensington,  where  it 
attracted  marked  attention  as  the  production  of  so  young  an 
artist.* 

At  the  Academy,  where  he  was  well  treated  and  became  a 
general  favourite,  they  nicknamed  him  “ The  Child,”  a name 
that  stuck  to  him  for  the  rest  of  his  life  at  the  Garrick  Club. 
He  worked  unceasingly,  and  was  universally  recognised  as  a 

* William  Millais  says:  “James  Wallack,  the  celebrated  comedian,  whose 
portrait  Sir  Charles  Eastlake,  p.r.a.,  painted  in  ‘ The  Brigand,’  and  who  afterwards 
married  my  sister,  was  the  model  for  ‘ Pizarro.’  My  father  was  the  priest,  and  also 
sat  for  other  figures  in  the  picture.” 


l845]  AT  THE  ROYAL  ACADEMY  19 

youthful  genius  from  whom  great  things  were  to  be  expected  ; 
but,  as  the  smallest  and  youngest  member  of  the  community, 
he  had  to  “ fag,”  for  all  that,  and  was  generally  told  off  to 
fetch  pies  and  stout  for  his  fellow-students  whilst  they  were 
at  work.* 

When  he  received  the  gold  medal  of  the  Royal  Academy 
many  famous  men  took  notice  of  him,  and  notably  Rogers, 
the  poet,  whose  brilliant  breakfast-parties  are  now  matters  of 


LOVE  SCENE.  Water-colour.  1840 

history.  All  the  literary  lions  of  the  day  were  to  be  met 
there,  and  at  that  time  things  were  very  different  from  what 
they  are  now.  Young  men  listened  respectfully,  as  they  were 
taught  to  do,  when  older  and  wiser  men  held  forth.  Rogers, 
I have  heard  my  father  say,  would  speak  learnedly  on  some 
subject  for  perhaps  five  minutes,  and  then,  after  a pause, 
would  say  : “ Now,  Mr.  Macaulay,  kindly  favour  us  with 

* “ I was  told  off,”  said  Millais,  “ by  the  other  students  to  obtain  their  lunch 
for  them.  I had  to  collect  40  or  50  pence  from  my  companions,  and  go  with  that 
hoard  to  a neighbouring  baker’s  and  purchase  the  same  number  of  buns.  It 
generally  happened  that  I got  a bun  myself  by  way  of  ‘ commission.’  ” 


20  JOHN  EVERETT  MILLAIS  [is39- 

your  opinion  of  the  subject,”  whereupon  Macaulay  would 
square  up  and  “ orate.”  While  he  was  talking  Rogers,  who 
was  a confirmed  invalid,  would  gradually  slip  down  into  his 
chair,  his  servant  having  to  pull  him  up  by  the  collar 
when  he  wished  to  speak  again.  He  was  extremely  kind, 
though  pompous  in  manner,  and  with  little  or  no  sense  of 
humour.  If  a stranger  arrived  he  would  say  to  his  servant, 
“ Thomas,  bring  down  that  volume  of  my  celebrated  poems'.' 

He  took  an  almost  parental  interest  in  Millais,  though 
occasionally  treating  him  with  a severity  that  bordered  on 
the  comic.  My  father  hated  sugar  in  his  tea,  and  on  more 
than  one  occasion  openly  expressed  his  dislike.  “ Thomas,” 
the  poet  would  say,  “ put  three  lumps  of  sugar  in  Mr. 
Millais’  tea;  he  ozight  to  like  sugar.  He  is  too  thin.” 

Rogers  had  an  MS.  missal  of  great  value,  of  which  he 
was  vastly  proud.  One  day  little  Millais  picked  it  up  to 
show  it  to  a young  lady.  “ Boy,”  roared  Rogers  from  the 
other  end  of  the  room,  almost  suffocating  himself  as  he 
slipped  down  into  his  chair,  “can’t  you  speak  about  a book 
without  fingering  it  ? How  dare  you  touch  my  missal ! ” 

One  day  a poor-looking  man,  apparently  a country  clergy- 
man, dressed  in  a shabby  tail-coat,  came  to  thank  Rogers  for 
hospitality  before  leaving  town.  As  the  departing  guest 
vanished  through  the  door,  after  shaking  hands  with  the 
little  artist,  the  poet  turned  to  Millais,  who  was  standing 
near,  and  said  in  solemn  tones,  “ Boy,  do  you  know  who  that 
was  ? Some  day  you  will  be  proud  to  say  that  you  once  met 
William  Wordsworth.” 

In  1895  Mr.  Gladstone  and  my  father  were  the  only  sur- 
vivors of  these  famous  parties.  A singular  circumstance 
was  that  though  my  mother,  who  was  then  a young  girl,  used 
frequently  to  breakfast  at  Rogers’  house,  yet  she  and  my 
father  never  met  there. 

Referring  to  these  early  days,  William  Millais  says:  “ We 
were  brought  up  as  very  loyal  subjects,  and  our  chief  delight 
was  to  go  to  Buckingham  Palace  to  see  the  Queen  and  the 
Prince  Consort  start  off  up  Constitution  Hill  for  their  daily 
drive.  On  one  memorable  occasion,  when  we  were  the  only 
people  on  the  footpath,  and  had  just  taken  off  our  caps  as 
the  Royal  carriage  passed,  feeling  proudly  happy  that  her 
Majesty  had  actually  bowed  to  us,  a sudden  explosion  was 
heard,  and  then  another.  My  father,  who  had  seen  what  had 
caused  them,  immediately  rushed  away  from  us  and  seized 


HIS  LOVE  OF  FISHING 


1845] 


2 1 


a man  who  was  just  inside  the  railings  of  the  park,  and  held 
him  till  some  of  the  mounted  escort  came  to  his  assistance. 
This  man  was  Oxford,  who  had  fired  at  the  Queen,  and  after- 
wards proved  to  be  a lunatic.  Of  course  we  went  immedi- 
ately to  examine  the  wall,  and  there  saw  the  marks  of  the 
two  bullets,  which  in  a few  days,  with  the  aid  of  sticks  and 
umbrellas,  had  multiplied  considerably.” 

As  a boy  Millais  was  extremely  delicate,  and  only  by  slow 
degrees  and  constant  attention  to  the  laws  of  health  did  he 
build  up  the  robust  constitution  it  was  his  privilege  to  enjoy 
in  the  later  years  of  his  life.  It  was  part  of  his  creed  — a 
creed  he  lost  no  opportunity  for  impressing  upon  younger  or 
less  experienced  artists  — that  good  health  is  the  first  neces- 
sity for  a man  who  would  distinguish  himself  in  any  walk  of 
life,  and  that  that  can  only  be  had  by  periodical  holidays,  in 
which  all  thought  of  business  affairs  is  resolutely  cast  aside. 
To  him  the  breezy  uplands  of  the  North,  where  with  rod  and 
gun  he  could  indulge  his  love  of  open-air  pursuits,  offered  the 
greatest  attraction.  Every  year,  therefore,  as  soon  as  he 
could  afford  it,  he  took  a shooting  or  a fishing  in  Scotland, 
and  (except  on  rare  occasions)  in  the  first  week  of  August  off 
he  went  for  a three  months’  holiday,  no  matter  how  important 
the  work  then  in  hand,  or  how  tempting  any  commission  that 
would  interfere  with  his  plan.  One  instance  of  this  I well 
remember.  Towards  the  close  of  a season  of  exceptionally 
hard  work  he  got  a letter  from  an  American  millionaire  offer- 
ing him  a small  fortune  if  he  would  cross  the  Atlantic  in 
August  and  paint  the  writer,  his  wife,  and  three  children  life- 
size  on  one  canvas.  But  he  declined  at  once,  remarking 
privately  that  the  subjects  were  not  interesting  enough  to 
induce  him  to  give  up  his  holiday. 

But  to  trace  his  history  as  a sportsman  I must  go  back  to 
the  days  of  his  pupilage,  when  during  the  summer  holidays 
he  and  my  uncle  William  (himself  an  expert  fisherman)  often 
started  at  daybreak  and  walked  all  the  way  to  Hornsey  and 
back  for  a day’s  fishing  in  the  New  River.  Cricket  too  was 
a great  delight,  and  though  the  latitude  of  Gower  Street  did 
not  lend  itself  to  progress  in  the  art,  they  practised  after  a 
fashion,  played  when  they  could,  and  assiduously  studied  the 
game  at  Lord’s  every  Saturday  in  the  season.  That  was  in 
the  days  when  the  top-hat  affliction  permeated  even  the 
cricket  field,  as  shown  in  a sheet  of  my  father’s  sketches 
made  on  the  ground  about  this  time.  Lilly  white  is  seen 


22  JOHN  EVERETT  MILLAIS  [.839-1845 

there  in  all  his  glory  as  the  first  cricketer  of  the  clay,  his 
amazing  head-gear  possibly  adding  to  the  awe  and  admiration 
with  which  he  was  regarded  by  young  and  aspiring  players. 

A letter  from  William  Millais  is  perhaps  worth  quoting  as 
showing  the  straits  to  which  he  and  his  brother  were  put  in 
their  determination  to  master  “ England’s  game,”  and  how 
they  encountered  and  overcame  them.  He  says:  “ We  used 
to  have  fictitious  matches  under  the  studio  in  Gower  Street, 


SKETCHES  MADE  AT  LORD’S,  1843 
With  portraits  of  the  famous  cricketers,  Lillywhite  and  Minns 


where  there  was  a sort  of  small  fives-court,  by  the  light  of  a 
feeble  gas-burner.  We  imitated  the  style  of  the  great 
bowlers  and  batters  of  that  day.  If  the  ball  hit  certain 
parts  of  the  wall  it  was  a catch,  and  certain  other  parts 
denoted  a number  of  runs.  We  kept  a perfect  score,  and 
alternately  batted  and  bowled.  These  matches  used  to  last 
three  or  four  days  ; it  was  great  fun.  Our  cricket  enthusiasm 
took  us  to  Lord’s  two  or  three  times  a week,  and  we  knew 
the  style  of  every  player.” 


THE  BENJAMITES  SEIZING  THEIR  BRIDES.  1840 


24  JOHN  EVERETT  MILLAIS  [is39- 

On  this  period  of  Millais’  life  an  old  fellow-student  is  good 
enough  to  send  me  the  following  note:  “The  Sir  John  E. 

Millais  of  Presidential  days  was  a very  different  person  from 
the  lad  of  thirteen  whom,  in  the  autumn  of  1843,  I encountered 


CUPID  CROWNED  WITH  FLOWERS.  1841 
Millais’  first  picture  in  oils 


at  the  Royal  Academy,  when,  with  a host  of  probationers  (that 
is,  students  of  the  Academy  on  trial),  I entered  the  Antique 
School,  and  was  greeted  with  shouts  of  ‘Hallo!  Millais; 
here  is  another  fellow  in  a collar.’  These  cries  came  from 
the  older  students  assembled  and  drawing  from  the  statues, 
busts,  and  what  not.  Their  occasion  was  myself,  then  just 


AS  AN  ACADEMY  STUDENT 


2 5 


1 84 5] 

upon  fifteen  years  old,  who  it  was  my  mother’s  pleasure 
should  wear  on  the  shoulders  of  his  short  jacket  a white 
falling  collar  some  four  inches  wide.  It  so  happened  that 
Millais’  mother  had  a similar  fancy,  and  that  being  younger 
and  much  smaller  than  I his  collar  had  a goffered  edgingf, 
which,  with  his  boyish  features,  light,  long,  and  curling  hair, 
made  him  appear  even  younger  than  he  was.  Upon  the 
cries  ceasing,  there  arose  from  the  semicircle  of  students  a 
lightly  and  elegantly-made  youngster  wearing  such  a collar 
as  I have  described,  a jacket  gathered  at  the  waist  with  a 
cloth  belt,  and  its  clasp  in  front.  With  an  assured  air  he 
crossed  the  room  to  where  I was  standing  among  the  arrivals. 
He  walked  round  me,  inspected  me  from  head  to  foot,  turned 
on  his  heel  without  a word,  stepped  back  to  his  seat,  and 
went  on  with  his  drawing.  It  so  happened  that  the  ever- 
diligent  Millais,  though  much  further  advanced  in  the 
Academy,  and  a student  in  the  Life  and  Painting,  conde- 
scended from  time  todime  to  work  among  the  tyros  from  the 
Antique,  such  as  I was.  At  that  time  he  was  exceedingly 
like  the  portrait  which  was  painted  of  him  about  the  date  in 
question,  by  (I  think)  Sir  E.  Landseer;*  but  there  was  more 
‘ devil  ’ and  less  sentiment  in  the  expression  of  his  features. 
After  being  inspected,  I settled  to  my  work,  and  forgot  all 
about  that  ordeal  till  I found  Millais,  who  was  then  not  more 
than  five  feet  two  inches  tall,  standing  at  my  side,  and,  with 
an  air  of  infinite  superiority,  looking  at  my  drawing,  which 
he  greeted  in  an  undertone  as  ‘ Not  at  all  bad.’  With  such 
humility  as  became  me  I asked  his  advice  about  it,  and  he 
frankly  gave  me  some  good  counsel.  I ought  to  have  said 
that,  long  before  this,  I had  heard  of  his  extraordinary  techni- 
cal skill  in  drawing  and  painting,  and  I reverenced  him  as  the 
winner'of  that  silver  medal  which  (the  first  of  his  Academical 
honours)  had  fallen  to  his  lot  not  long  before;  but  he  being  a 
pupil  in  Sass’s  school  and  I a student  in  the  British  Museum, 
or  ‘ Museumite,’  so  called,  I had  not  come  across  the  P.  R.  A. 
to-be. 

“ Abounding  in  animal  spirits  and  not  without  a playful 
impishness,  being  very  light  and  small  even  for  his  age, 
Millais  was  the  lively  comrade — I had  almost  said  plaything 
— of  the  bigger  and  older  students,  some  of  whom  had,  even 
in  1843-44,  reached  full  manhood.  One  of  the  latter  was 
‘Jack  Harris,’ a burly  and  robust  personage,  a leader  in  all 

* The  painter  was  John  Phillip,  k.a. 


26  JOHN  EVERETT  MILLAIS  [1839- 

the  feats  of  strength  which  then  obtained  in  the  schools,  and 
the  same  who  sat  to  Millais  in  184S-49  for  his  exact  portrait 
as  the  elder  brother  who  kicks  the  dog  in  the  picture  of 
‘ Isabella  ’ now  at  Liverpool.  Profoundly  contrasted  as  in 
every  respect  their  characters  were,  Millais  and  ‘ Jack  Harris  ’ 
were  comrades  and  playfellows  of  the  closest  order  at  the 
Academy.  For  example,  I remember  how,  because  some 


MARY  HODGKINSON 
Wife  of  the  artist’s  half-brother.  Circ.  1843 


workmen  had  left  a tall  ladder  against  the  wall  of  the  school, 
nothing  would  do  but  on  one  occasion  Harris  must  carry 
Millais,  clinging  round  his  neck,  to  the  top  of  this  ladder. 
It  so  happened  that  just  at  the  moment  the  door  of  the  room 
slowly  opened,  while  no  less  a person  than  the  keeper  entered 
and  took  up  his  duties  by  teaching  the  student  nearest  the 
entrance.  Discipline  and  respect  for  Mr.  George  Jones  [the 
master  at  that  time]  forbade  Harris  to  come  down  the  ladder, 


POEM  ON  STUDENTS’  LIFE 


27 


1845] 

and  his  safety  forbade  Millais  from  letting  go  his  hold. 
Doubtless  the  keeper  saw  the  dilemma,  for,  without  noticing 
the  culprits,  he  hastened  his  progress  round  the  room  and 
left  it  as  soon  as  might  be,  but  not  before  Millais  was  tired 
of  his  lofty  position.” 

The  following  lines  (discovered  amongst  my  father’s 
papers)  afford  an  amusing  insight  into  the  ways  and  doings 
of  Academy  students  at  that  period.  The  writer’s  name 
unfortunately  does  not  appear. 

Mr.  Jones,  it  must  be  observed,  delighted  in  aping  the 
appearance  of  the  Duke  of  Wellington  as  far  as  he  possibly 
could. # 


“ Remember  you  the  Antique  School, 
And  eke  the  Academic  Stool, 

Under  the  tutorship  and  rule 
Of  dear  old  Jones, 

Our  aged  military  keeper 
And  medal -distribution  weeper, 

For  whom  respect  could  not  be  deeper 
In  human  bones ; 


“ Whose  great  ambition  was  to  look 
As  near  as  might  be  like  ‘ the  Dook,’ 
With  somewhat  less  of  nasal  hook, 

And  doubtless  brains  ; 

Who,  I imagine,  still  delights 
To  try  and  look  the  ghost,  o’  nights, 

Of  him  who  fought  a hundred  fights  — 
The  Duke’s  remains  ? 


“ But  to  return  — to  go  on  talking 
Of  those  young  days  when  we  were  walking 
Towards  the  never-ending  chalking 
From  casts,  or  life  — 

Days  of  charcoal  stumps,  and  crumbs, 

‘ Double  Elephant,’  and  ‘ Plumbs,’ 

Within  the  sound  of  barrack  drums 
And  shrilly  fifes  ; 


*“I  may  say  of  Mr.  Jones  that  he  was  chiefly  known  as  a painter  of  military 
pictures,  and  in  dress  and  person  he  so  much  resembled  the  great  Duke  of 
Wellington  that,  to  his  extreme  delight,  he  was  often  mistaken  for  that  hero,  and 
saluted  accordingly.  On  this  coming  to  the  ears  of  the  Duke,  he  said,  ‘ Dear 
me  ! Mistaken  for  me,  is  he  ? That ’s  strange,  for  no  one  ever  mistakes  me 
for  Mr.  Jones.’  ” 

My  Autobiography  and  Reminiscences , by  W.  P.  Frith,  R.A. 


28  JOHN  EVERETT  MILLAIS 

“ Now  in  the  circle  gathered  round 
To  hear  the  learned  youth  expound 
Anatomy,  the  most  profound  — 

Our  Private  Green  ; 

Now  in  the  Library’s  retreat, 

Upon  a fine  morocco  seat, 

And  in  a comfortable  heat, 

A gent,  I ween  ; 

“ Tracing  armour,  and  trunk  hose, 

Legs  in  tights,  with  pointed  toes ; 

Meyrick,  Bonner,  witli  set  chose, 

To  parleyvoo  ; 

Studying  now  and  then  a print, 

An  old  Sir  Joshua  Mezzotint, 

Or  portrait  which  affords  a hint 
Of  something  new. 

“ In  silence  let  us  gently  sneak 
Towards  tire  door  devoid  of  creak, 

Which  leads  us  back  to  that  Antique, 

Where  youth  still  plods. 

For  now,  behold,  the  gas  is  lit, 

And  nigh  a hundred  brows  are  knit, 

Where  miserable  heathens  sit, 

Before  their  gods. 

“There  from  the  Premier  Charley  Fox  — 

That  party  with  the  greasy  locks, 

Who  vainly  calls  on  long-tongued  Knox 
To  hold  his  jawings  — 

Every  back  is  archly  bending, 

For  the  Silver  Prize  contending, 

This  the  latest  night  for  sending 
In  the  drawings. 

“ Another  minute  — give  them  ten  — 

To  cut  these  from  the  boards  ; and  then, 

‘ Past  eight  o’clock,  please,  gentlemen,’ 
Shouts  little  Bob. 

And  in  the  Folio  (very  cheap  ! ) 

The  work  of  months  is  in  a heap, 

Not  worth  the  wages  of  a sweep 
For  one  small  job. 

“ But  now  to  times  a little  later, 

When  first  we  drew  upstairs  from  Natur’, 
When  we  were  passing  that  equator 
Of  days  scholastic ; 

When  we  were  nightly  stew’d  or  fried 
With  bald-pates  glistening  by  our  side, 

And  felt  ourselves,  with  conscious  pride. 
Beyond  the  Plastic. 


[1839- 


I §45] 


AS  A BOY 


29 


HATFIELD  HOUSE.  1844 


“ We  saw  the  graceful  Wild  recline 
Exclaiming,  ‘ Oh  ! by  George,  how  fine,’ 
And  with  the  thumb  describe  a line 
In  aerial  wave  — 

The  right  and  proper  thing  to  do, 

It  mattered  not  whate’er  we  drew — - 
Her,  or  the  sad  Cymmon  Meudoo, 

As  captive  slave. 


“ Enough  1 I feel  I’m  going  astray 
From  dear  old  Mrs.  Grundy’s  way; 

And  what  her  followers  may  say 
I take  to  heart. 

Yet,  should  these  lines  provoke  a smile  — 

A moment  of  the  day  beguile  — 

I ’ll  maybe  send  you,  in  this  style, 

A second  part.” 

With  so  much  work  to  do  the  little  artist  had  hardly  time 
to  make  any  new  acquaintances  outside  of  those  whom  he 
met  daily  at  the  Academy ; nevertheless  he  managed  to 
occasionally  see  his  two  Jersey  friends,  Arthur  and  Harry 
Lempriere,  for  they  were  at  school  at  Brighton,  and  fre- 
quently visited  London  during  their  holidays.  To  Arthur  — 
now  Major-General  Arthur  Lempriere — I am  indebted  for 
the  following  note  of  his  recollections  of  Millais  as  a boy:  — 


3o  JOHN  EVERETT  MILLAIS  [1S39-1S45 

“ I remember  Sir  J.  E.  Millais  when  I was  quite  a small 
boy  at  school  at  Brighton,  where  he  used  to  write  to  me 
and  my  brother  Harry  most  beautiful  letters,  all  illustrated 
and  the  words  in  different  coloured  inks.  One  of  those 
letters  began  ‘My  little  dears’;  but  instead  of  writing  the 
word  ‘dears,’  a number  of  deer  were  drawn,  and  so  on 
through  the  whole  of  a Christmas  story,  in  which  he  intro- 
duced coloured  drawings  of  coaches  and  horses,  travellers, 
games,  etc.* 


VIEW  FROM  MILLAIS’  FORMER  HOME,  NEAR  St.  HELIERS,  JERSEY 
Water-colour,  executed  during  a visit  in  1844 


“ We  always  called  him  ‘ Johnny,’  and  he  constantly  spent 
the  holidays  with  us  at  our  home  at  Ewell,  Surrey.  My 
father  and  mother  and  all  our  family  were  very  fond  of  him, 
as  well  as  he  of  us. 

“ He  seemed  always,  when  indoors,  to  have  a pen,  pencil, 
or  brush  in  his  hand,  rattling  off  some  amusing  caricature 
or  other  drawing.  He  was  very  active  and  strong,  and 
blessed  with  a most  pleasing,  good-tempered,  and  gentle- 
manly manner.  During  the  many  years  I knew  him  I never 
once  recollect  his  losing  his  temper  or  saying  an  unkind 

* This  letter,  illustrated  with  little  water-colours,  was  exhibited  in  the  Millais 
Exhibition,  1S98. 


COVER  OF  MILLAIS’  BOOK  ON  ARMOUR.  1845 


32  JOHN  EVERETT  MILLAIS  [1839- 

word  to  anyone,  and  we  all  really  looked  upon  him  quite 
as  a brother. 

“ I have  heard  my  father  say  that  my  uncle,  Mr.  Philip 
Lempriere,  of  Royal  Jersey,  gave  Sir  J.  E.  Millais  his  first 
colour-box. 

“ It  was  in  1847  that  I remember  his  drawing  all  the 
Lempriere  family  at  Ewell  standing  round  a table  in  the 


drawing-room,  and  watching  eagerly  a Twelfth-cake  being 
cut  by  my  eldest  sister.  It  was  all  so  cleverly  grouped, 
and  included  my  father  and  mother,  my  five  brothers,  seven 
sisters,  myself,  and  himself.  It  was  a picture  we  all  greatly 
valued,  as,  in  addition  to  the  clever  grouping,  the  likenesses 
were  so  excellent. 

“ Millais’  power  of  observation,  even  when  a boy,  was 
marvellous.  After  walking  out  with  him  and  meeting  people 


i845]  SERJEANT  THOMAS  33 

he  would  come  home  and  draw  an  exact  likeness  of  almost 
anyone  he  happened  to  have  met.  He  was  also  well  up 
in  the  anatomy  of  a horse,  and  knew  exactly  where  every 
vein  and  bone  should  be,  and  was  very  fond  of  drawing 
them.” 

In  1S45  Millais  happened  to  become  acquainted  with  a 
certain  Serjeant  Thomas,  a retired  lawyer  given  to  trading 


A LEAF  FROM  MILLAIS’  BOOK  OF  ARMOUR.  1844 


in  works  of  art.  Recognising  his  genius,  and  knowing  that 
he  was  very  poor,  Thomas  offered  him  ^ioo  a year  to  come 
to  his  house  every  Saturday  and  paint  small  pictures  or 
backgrounds  as  might  be  required.  The  terms  seemed  fair 
enough,  and  in  the  end  a contract  was  drawn  up  by  the 
lawyer  and  duly  signed,  binding  Millais  to  serve  in  tins  way 
for  two  years.  Little  did  he  know  or  think  of  the  galling 
yoke  that  was  now  hung  upon  his  neck.  Thomas,  who 
as  a picture-dealer  got  about  cent,  per  cent,  profit  out  of  his 
! — 3 


34  JOHN  EVERETT  MILLAIS  [1845- 

work,  worried  him  beyond  measure  by  his  constant  inter- 
ference, his  restrictive  rules,  and  his  general  insolence  of 
manner.  At  last  — long  before  the  two  years  were  over  — 
things  came  to  a crisis.  One  Saturday  morning  — not  quite 
for  the  first  time  — Millais  came  to  his  work  some  ten  minutes 
late,  when  Thomas  attacked  him  furiously,  winding  up  a 
long  harangue  with  a personal  remark  that  stung  him  to  the 
quick.  He  had  just  arranged  his  palette  with  fresh  oil- 
colours,  and  in  a moment  it  was  sent  flying  at  his  employer’s 
head.  Happily  for  the  head  it  was  a bad  shot;  the  palette 
struck  against  the  wall,  and  then  slowly  descended  to  the 
floor.  A violent  slamming  of  the  door  announced  Millais’ 
departure  and  his  determination  never  to  enter  the  house 
again.  They  made  it  up,  however,  later  on.  Thomas 
agreed  to  increase  the  pay  to  £ 1 50  a year,  and  for  a short 
time  longer  Millais  continued  his  work.  Finally,  however, 
he  gave  it  up,  though  offered  far  higher  terms  as  an  induce- 
ment to  stay. 

Some  forty  years  passed  away,  and  one  Sunday  morning, 
after  a long  walk  with  Mr.  Henry  Wells,  r.a.,  Millais 
accompanied  him  to  his  studio  in  Stratford  Place.  Noticing 
a peculiar  expression  in  his  face,  Mr.  Wells  said,  “What 
are  you  looking  at?  You  seem  to  know  the  place.” 
“ Know  it ! ” said  Millais,  after  a long  pause,  “ I should 
think  I do.  Why,  this  is  the  very  room  in  which  Serjeant 
Thomas  sweated  me,  and  over  there  (pointing  to  one  end 
of  the  studio)  I still  seem  to  see  the  palette  I threw  at  his 
head,  with  the  paint-mark  it  left  on  the  wall  paper  as  it 
slid  slowly  down  to  the  floor.” 

One  of  the  most  interesting  relics  of  this  period  is  the 
first  cheque  that  the  young  artist  received.  It  is  for  £5 
(“  Pay  to  Master  Millais  for  a sketch  ”),  and  signed  by 
Serjeant  Ralph  Thomas,  dated  February  28th,  1846.  The 
recipient  seems  to  have  been  so  delighted  with  this  sudden 
acquisition  of  wealth  that,  instead  of  cashing  the  cheque 
at  once,  he  sat  down  and  made  a sketch  of  himself  in  his 
painting  dress  on  the  back  of  it.  It  is  now  in  the  possession 
of  Mr.  Standen,  the  owner  of  “ Cymon  and  Iphigenia.” 

It  was  in  the  summer  of  1S46  that  Millais  first  travelled 
down  to  Oxford,  where  he  stayed  with  his  half-brother. 
Henry  Hodgkinson,  who  lived  in  that  town.  One  of  the 
people  whose  acquaintance  he  made  there  was  a dealer  in 
works  of  art  named  Wyatt  — a remarkable  man  in  many 


I S46] 


MR.  WYATT 


35 


ways,  and  one  of  nature’s  gentlemen.  He  took  an  imme- 
diate fancy  to  “ Johnny  Millais,”  and  between  the  years 
1846  and  1849  the  young  artist  made  frequent  visits  to 
Oxford  as  his  guest. 

In  a wing  of  his  house  was  a certain  room  that  Millais  used 
to  occupy,  and  on  the  glass  window  may  still  be  seen  two 
designs  he  made  in  oils,  one  representing  “ The  Queen  of 


A PHOTOGRAPH  OF  THE  FIRST  CHEQUE  RECEIVED  P.Y  MILLAIS 
The  young  artist  was  so  delighted  at  receiving  this  reward  that  he  at  once  sat  down  and 
made  the  above  sketch  of  himself  on  the  back  of  the  cheque 


Beauty,”  and  the  other  “ The  Victorious  Knight.”  At  this 
period  it  seems  he  had  quite  a mania  for  drawing;  even  at 
the  dinner  table  he  could  not  remain  idle.  When  no  one 
was  looking  he  would  take  out  a pencil  and  begin  making 
sketches  on  whatever  was  nearest  to  his  hand.  “ Take  a 
piece  of  paper,  Johnny,”  Mr.  Wyatt  would  say,  “take  a 
piece  of  paper.  We  cannot  have  the  tablecloth  spoiled.” 
"Johnny’  was  accordingly  handed  paper  to  relieve  his 
superfluous  energy,  and  the  number  of  sketches  done  at 
table,  and  now  in  the  possession  of  Mr.  Standen  (who 


36  JOHN  EVERETT  MILLAIS  [.846 

married  Mr.  Wyatt’s  granddaughter),  bears  witness  to  his 
ceaseless  industry. 

Here,  too,  in  1846  he  made  the  acquaintance  of  Mr. 
Drury,  of  Shotover,  a quaint,  benevolent  old  gentleman, 
who  loved  the  fine  arts  and  everything  connected  with  them. 
He  made  a great  pet  of  the  young  artist,  and  insisted  on 
his  accompanying  him  wherever  he  went  in  his  pony-cart, 


for  being  a huge  man  and  a martyr  to  gout  he  could  not 
move  without  his  “ trap.”  Nothing  could  exceed  his  kind- 
ness to  Millais.  He  gave  him  a gun,  and  allowed  him 
to  shoot  over  his  property  and  to  make  the  place  his  home 
whenever  he  cared  to  come.  There  are  several  sketches  by 
Millais  of  old  Mr.  Drury  and  himself  taking  their  toddles 
together  — done  just  in  a few  lines,  but  (I  am  told  by  those 
who  saw  them  at  the  time)  highly  characteristic. 

William  Millais  tells  us  something  of  Mr.  Drury  and 


1846] 


MR.  DRURY 


37 


his  peculiar  ways.  He  says,  “ My  brother  often  went  to 
stay  at  Shotover  Park,  and  on  one  occasion  I was  invited 
there  too  for  a fortnight.  There  was  no  one  with  Mr. 
Drury  in  the  huge  mansion  except  his  niece,  and  we  boys 
had  the  run  of  the  place  to  our  hearts’  content,  fishing  and 
shooting  wherever  we  liked. 

“ It  is  not  easy  to  forget  my  first  impressions  there.  I 


was  informed  by  a stately  old  butler  that  ‘ Master  Millais 
was  engaged  just  then  with  the  master.’  I entered  a 
darkened  room,  where  the  old  invalid  could  just  be  seen 
sitting  up  in  bed  with  a tallow  dip  in  one  hand  and  a square 
of  glass  in  the  other.  He  was  moving  the  flame  of  the 
candle  all  over  the  under  side  of  the  greased  surface  of  the 
glass,  which  was  gradually  becoming  black  with  smoke;  on 
this  sheet  of  glass  my  brother  had  drawn  figures  of  angels  in 


[ I S46— 


38  JOHN  EVERETT  MILLAIS 

all  positions.  I had  evidently  entered  at  the  supreme  moment, 
for  our  host,  catching  sight  of  me,  cried  out,  ‘ Ah,  ah  ! we ’ve 
got  it;  you  are  just  in  time  to  see  the  New  Jerusalem.’ 
Upon  examination,  there  really  was  a certain  fascination 
about  the  appearance  of  this  extraordinary  ‘ Kalotype,’  as 
he  called  it,  but  which  might  more  appropriately  have  been 
called  a ‘ tallow-type.’ 

“ The  dear  old  man  was  under  the  morbid  impression  that 
all  his  relatives  wished  him  dead,  so  as  to  inherit  his  fortune, 
and  for  this  reason  he  made  a large  ‘ Kalotype  ’ of  the  sub- 
ject, which  was  most  ghastly.  I cannot  describe  it  exactly, 
but  remember  that  a coffin  occupied  the  centre  of  the  picture, 
whilst  a regular  scrimmage  was  going  on  all  round.  This 
design  was  carried  out  by  my  brother  under  his  directions. 
I shall  never  forget  Mr.  Drury’s  kindness  to  us  boys.  He 
completely  spoilt  us.  I used  to  sing  a great  deal,  and  he 
expressed  the  greatest  delight  at  listening  whilst  I accom- 
panied myself  on  the  organ  in  the  large  hall,  where  the 
gruesome  ‘ Kalotype  ’ occupied  a conspicuous  place.” 

In  1847,  competition  being  invited  for  cartoons  for  the 
decoration  of  Westminster  Hall,  Millais  sent  in  a huge 
canvas  which  he  called  “ The  Widow’s  Mite.”  Except 
“ Pizarro,”  it  was  the  only  picture  that  he  ever  executed  on 
conventional  lines,  the  figures  in  shadow  being  piled  and 
grouped  up  to  the  culminating  point,  where  Christ  stands 
against  a blaze  of  light,  and  addressing  Himself  to  St.  John, 
calls  his  attention  to  the  woman’s  act  of  unselfishness.  It 
was,  however,  voted  “ intellectually  deficient,  lacking  the  true 
note  of  Grandeur  when  Millais  was  left  to  himself.”  This 

O 

big  canvas,  which  monopolised  all  the  available  space  in  his 
studio  and  occupied  the  young  artist  the  greater  part  of  the 
year,  had  as  competitors  the  works  of  older  and  stronger 
men  of  the  day  — G.  F.  Watts,  Cope,  Armitage,  Sir  John 
Tenniel,  and  others;  and  I am  told  by  a distinguished  artist 
that  “ because  she  [the  widow]  holds  by  the  hand  a little 
nude  child,  it  set  the  critics  somewhat  against  the  work,  as 
displaying  such  ‘ bad  taste.’  ” For  some  years  it  was  ex- 
hibited in  the  Pantheon  in  Oxford  Street.  Ten  feet  seven 
by  fourteen  feet  three  was  not  cjuite  the  thing  for  the  “show 
parlours”  of  the  day,  so  it  was  cut  up  and  sold  in  bits. 
Mr.  Spielmann  says  that  one  of  these  sections  is  now  at 
Tynemouth  and  the  other  in  the  United  States,  but  I have 
since  heard  that  it  was  distributed  in  still  smaller  pieces. 


PIZARRO  SEIZING  THE  INCA  OF  PERU.  1845 
first  exhibited  picture  painted  by  Millais,  executed  at  the  age  of  16 


1 849] 


SOME  EARLY  PICTURES 


“ Cymon  and  Iphigenia  ” (painted  in  1847)  was  purchased 
by  Mr.  Wyatt  in  1848,  and  the  dealer  was  so  pleased  with 
it  that  he  asked  Millais  to  come  down  in  the  following  year 
and  paint  a portrait  of  himself  and  his  grandchild.  This 
was  accordingly  done,  and  the  portrait  is  now  in  the  posses- 
sion of  Mr.  James  Wyatt.* 

The  picture,  “ Grandfather  and  Child,”  is  interesting  as 
showing  the  artist’s  transition  from  the  technique  of  “ Cymon” 
of  the  previous  year  to  the  more  distinctly  Pre-Raphaelite 


MR.  DRURY  AND  MILLAIS  TAKE  THE  AIR.  1848. 

and  technically  correct  “ Woodman’s  Daughter.”  A critic 
says  of  it:  “The  infinite  patience  and  imitative  skill  in 
draughtmanship,  the  brilliancy  of  execution,  and  the  power 
of  reproducing  the  brightness  of  sunlight,  have  manifestly 
been  acquired  before  the  lesson  had  been  learned  of  har- 
monious effect  and  of  subordinating  the  parts  to  the  whole. 
This  portrait  of  Mr.  Wyatt,  the  print  and  picture  dealer  and 
frame-maker  of  Oxford,  who  died  in  1853,  is  unflinchingly 
true  and  as  matter-of-fact,  despite  its  character,  as  the  flowers 
in  the  room  and  in  the  garden,  or  the  family  china  in  the 

* An  excellent  copy  of  this  work,  now  in  the  possession  of  Mr.  Standen,  was 
made  in  1850  by  William  Millais.  Millais  also  painted  Mrs.  Wyatt  and  her  child, 
and  (in  1877)  Mr.  James  Wyatt. 


42  JOHN  EVERETT  MILLAIS 


case  behind  him.  It  has  all  been  set  down  with  pitiless  and 
remorseless  solicitude.  The  quaint  little  Dutch  doll-like  child 
has  received  the  painter’s  most  earnest  attention,  and  the 
head  of  Mr.  Wyatt  has  been  stippled  up  as  carefully  as  that 
of  Mr.  Combe,  at  Oxford.” 

Mr.  Spielmann’s  account  of  the  “ Cymon  ” is  not  quite  cor- 
rect, either  as  to  its  subject 
or  its  history.  As  to  its 
subject,  it  is  certainly  not 
a “ riotous  dance,”  and  its 
actual  history  is  as  follows: 
In  the  spring  of  1852, 
when  it  was  still  in  Mr. 
Wyatt’s  possession,  Millais 
saw  it  and  suggested  some 
improvements,  which  the 
owner  willingly  allowed 
him  to  carry  out.  He 
took  it  back,  therefore,  to 
Gower  Street,  and  having 
(as  he  says  in  a letter) 
“ repainted  the  sky  and 
touched  up  the  grass  and 
foliage,  draperies  and  ef- 
fects,” he  returned  it  to 
Mr.  Wyatt  in  the  follow- 
ing December.  For  its 
subsequent  history  I am 
indebted  to  a letter  from 
Mr.  Standen,  the  present 
owner,  who  says:  “ When 
Mr.  Wyatt  died,  in  1853, 
the  best  of  his  pictures  and  effects  were  sold  at  Christie’s 
on  July  4th,  1853,  your  father’s  picture  of  ‘Cymon  ’ figuring 
largely  in  the  catalogue.  Mr.  George  Wyatt,  the  second 
son,  bought  it  for  himself,  and  gave  350  guineas  for  it. 
The  picture  was  then  taken  to  Newport,  Isle  of  Wight, 
where  he  lived,  and  it  remained  there  unseen  till  he  died,  in 
1892.  He  left  it  to  me  by  his  will,  together  with  many  other 
interesting  works.” 


STUDY  OF  AN  ACTOR 
Executed  in  Sadler’s  Wells  Theatre,  1845 


CHAPTER  II 


PRE-RAPHAELITISM : ITS  MEANING  AND  ITS  HISTORY 


First  meeting  of  Hunt  and  Millais — The  pedantry  of  Art — Hunt  admitted  to  the 
R.A.  — They  work  together  in  Millais’  studio — Reciprocal  relief  — The  birth 
of  Pre-Raphaelitism  — The  name  chosen  — The  meeting  of  Hunt  and  D.  G. 
Rossetti  — First  gathering  of  the  Brotherhood  — The  so-called  influence  of 
Rossetti  — -Millais  explains  — The  critics  at  sea  — D.  G.  Rossetti — Ruskin 
— Max  Nordau  — The  aims  of  Pre-Raphaelitism  — Cyclographic  Club  — 
Madox  Brown  — “ The  Germ  ” — Millais’  story. 


IN  this  chapter  I propose  to  devote  myself  exclusively  to 
the  history  and  progress  of  the  Pre-Raphaelite  move- 
ment, with  which  Millais  was  so  intimately  connected  in 
the  early  years  of  his  life.  Those  therefore  who  are  not 
interested  in  this  subject  will  do  well  to  pass  on  at  once  to 
Chapter  III. 

In  the  art  history  of  this  century  probably  no  movement 
has  created  so  great  a sensation  as  that  which  is  commonly 
known  as  Pre-Raphaelitism.  For  years  it  was  on  every- 
body’s tongue  and  in  every  newspaper  of  the  day,  and 
after  the  excitement  it  occasioned  had  died  out  numerous 
pens  were  engaged  in  tracing  its  history  according  to  their 
lights ; but  to  this  day  the  actual  facts  are  known  but  to 
very  few.  I have  them  from  the  best  possible  authority  — 
the  originators  themselves,  my  father  and  Mr.  Holman  Hunt. 

How  these  two  men  first  came  together  was  graphically 
described  to  me  in  a long  talk  I had  with  Mr.  Hunt  shortly 
after  my  father’s  death.  He  said,  “ The  first  time  I saw 
Millais  was  at  the  prize-giving  at  the  R.A.  in  1838. 
There  was  much  speculation  amongst  the  students  as  to 
who  would  gain  the  gold  medal  for  a series  of  drawings 
from  the  antique,  and  it  was  generally  considered  that 
a man,  thirty  years  of  age,  named  Fox,  would  be  the 
successful  competitor.  All  voices  were  hushed  when 

Mr.  Jones  mounted  the  steps  and  read  out  the  name  of 

43 


44  JOHN  EVERETT  MILLAIS  [is4s- 

John  Everett  Millais.  Immense  cheering  followed,  and 
little  Millais  was  lifted  up  at  the  back  of  the  auditorium 
and  carried  on  the  shoulders  of  the  students  to  the 
receiving  desk.  Fox,  who  only  got  the  third  prize, 
refused  to  get  up  when  his  name  was  called ; but  the 


YOUTH.  1845 


students  would  not  allow  this  : they  made  him  go  up  and 
receive  his  medal.” 

Later  on  Mr.  Holman  Hunt,  who,  though  he  had  worked 
very  hard,  had  failed  to  get  into  the  Royal  Academy,  was 
drawing  one  day  in  the  East  Room  by  himself.  “ Suddenly,” 
said  he,  “ the  doors  opened,  and  a curly-headed  lad  came 
in  and  began  skipping  about  the  room ; by-and-by  he 


1 352] 


PRE-RAPHAELITISM 


45 


danced  round  until  he  was  behind  me,  looked  at  my 
drawing  for  a minute,  and  then  skipped  off  again.  About 
a week  later  I found  the  same  boy  drawing  from  a cast  in 
another  room,  and  returned  the  compliment  by  staring  at 
his  drawing.  Millais,  who  of  course  it  was,  turned  round 


MANHOOD.  1845 


AGE.  1845 


suddenly  and  said,  ‘ Oh,  I say,  you  ’re  the  chap  that  was 
working  in  No.  12  the  other  day.  You  ought  to  be  in  the 
Academy.’ 

“ This  led  to  a lone;  talk,  during:  which  Millais  said  that 
he  was  much  struck  by  the  drawing  which  he  had  seen 
me  working  at,  and  that  there  was  not  the  least  doubt  that 
if  a drawing  or  two  like  that  were  shown  for  probationer- 


46  JOHN  EVERETT  MILLAIS  [1848- 

ship,  I should  be  admitted  at  once.  When  I asked  what 
he  thought  was  the  best  way  of  doing  the  drawings,  he 
replied,  ‘ Oh,  I always  do  mine  in  line  and  stump,  although 
it  is  n’t  conventional.’  ” 

After  this  the  two  boys  fell  into  a discussion  on  the 
conventionality  and  pedantry  of  art  as  displayed  in  the 
paintings  of  the  day,  and  it  was  evident  that  in  both  their 
minds  had  sprung  up  a sense  of  dissatisfaction  and  the  idea 
of  rejecting  what  they  considered  to  be  false  and  stunted. 

A year  went  by.  Mr.  Hunt  was  admitted  to  the  Royal 
Academy,  and  then  had  frequent  opportunities  for  talking 
to  his  friend  Millais.  One  evening,  some  two  years  later, 
it  came  out  in  the  course  of  conversation  that  while  Millais 
was  painting  the  “ Pizarro,”  already  referred  to,  Mr.  Hunt  was 
engaged  at  home  on  a picture  for  exhibition  at  the  British 
Institution  — a notable  incident  as  marking  the  first  occasion 
on  which  either  artist  painted  a picture  for  exhibition. 

Another  year  passed,  and  the  young  artists  were  in  the 
full  swing  of  their  work,  Mr.  Hunt  painting  hard  at  his  “ Por- 
phyro,”  and  Millais  at  “ Cymon  and  Iphigenia,”  a picture 
in  which  he  seems  to  have  been  much  influenced  by  Etty, 
the  only  man  of  the  old  school  whom  he  really  admired. 
After  one  of  their  many  talks  on  originality  in  art,  or  rather 
the  absence  of  it  at  that  time,  Millais  said  to  Mr.  Hunt,  “ It  is 
quite  impossible  to  get  out  pictures  done  in  time  for  the  Royal 
Academy,  unless  we  sit  up  and  work  all  night  in  the  last 
week.  Let  us  paint  together  in  my  studio,  and  then  we  can 
encourage  each  other  and  talk  over  our  ambitions.”  I his 
was  agreed  upon,  and  from  that  time  the  two  boys  began 
to  study  side  by  side.  How  tremendously  in  earnest  they 
were  may  be  gathered  from  the  fact  that  it  was  no  un- 
common thing  for  them  to  work  on  far  into  the  night, 
sometimes  even  till  four  or  five  in  the  morning  ; this,  too, 
night  after  night  till  the  sending-in  day. 

There  are  always  some  parts  of  a picture  that  an  artist 
hates  doing.  After  a month  or  two  Millais  got  quite  sick 
of  painting  the  draperies  of  the  girls  in  his  picture;  so  one 
evening  he  turned  to  his  companion  and  said,  “If  you  will 
do  some  of  these  beastly  draperies  for  me,  1 'll  paint  a head 
or  two  in  your  picture  for  you”  — an  offer  that  was  at  once 
accepted.  In  this  way  they  relieved  each  other  upon 
occasion,  and  it  is  curious  to  notice  how  alike  their  work 
was  in  those  days;  so  much  so,  that  when  Hunt  examined 


“CYMON  AND  IPHIGENIA.”  1847 

By  permission  of  James  Standen 


PRE-RAPHAELITISM 


1852] 


49 


the  picture  in  the  Millais  Exhibition  of  1898  he  could  not 
distinguish  the  parts  he  had  painted. 

It  was  from  these  evening  seances , and  the  confidence 
engendered  by  the  free  interchange  of  thought,  that  sprang 
the  determination  of  these  youths  to  leave  the  beaten  track 
of  art  and  strike  out  a new  line  for  themselves.  Raphael, 
the  idol  of  the  art  world,  they  dared  to  think,  was  not 
altogether  free  from  imperfections.  His  Cartoons  showed 
this,  and  his  “Transfiguration”  still  further  betrayed  the 
falsity  of  his  methods.  They  must  go  back  to  earlier 
times  for  examples  of  sound  and  satisfactory  work,  and, 
rejecting  the  teaching  of  the  day  that  blindly  followed  in 
his  footsteps,  must  take  Nature  as  their  only  guide.  I hey 
would  go  to  her,  and  her  alone,  for  inspiration  ; and,  hoping 
that  others  would  be  tempted  to  join  in  their  crusade  against 
conventionality,  they  selected  as  their  distinctive  title  the 
term  “ Pre-Raphaelites.” 

“ Each  for  the  joy  of  the  working,  and  each  in  his  separate  star, 

Shall  draw  the  Thing  as  he  sees  It  for  the  God  of  Things  as  They  Are.” 


“ It  was  in  the  beginning  of  the  year  184S,”  says  Mr. 
Holman  Hunt,  “that  your  father  and  I determined  to  adopt 
a style  of  absolute  independence  as  to  art-dogma  and  con- 
vention : th  is  we  called  ‘ Pre-Raphaelitism.’  D.  G.  Rossetti 
was  already  my  pupil,  and  it  seemed  certain  that  he  also, 
in  time , would  work  on  the  same  principles.  He  had 
declared  his  intention  of  doing  so,  and  there  was  beginning 
to  be  some  talk  of  other  artists  joining  us,  although  in 
fact  some  were  only  in  the  most  primitive  stages  of  art, 
such  as  William  Rossetti,  who  was  not  even  a student. 

“ Meanwhile,  D.  G.  Rossetti,  himself  a beginner,  had  not 
got  over  the  habit  (acquired  from  Madox  Brown)  of  calling 
our  art  ‘ Early  Christian  1 ; so  one  day,  in  my  studio,  some 
time  after  our  first  meeting,  I protested,  saying  that  the 
term  would  confuse  us  with  the  German  Ouattro  Centists. 
I went  on  to  convince  him  that  our  real  name  was  ‘ Pre- 
Raphaelites,’  a name  which  we  had  already  so  far  revealed 
in  frequent  argument  that  we  had  been  taunted  as  holding 
opinions  abominable  enough  to  deserve  burning  at  the 
stake.  He  thereupon,  with  a pet  scheme  of  an  extended 
co-operation  still  in  mind,  amended  my  previous  sugges- 
tion by  adding  to  our  title  of  ‘Pre-Raphaelite’  the  word 
‘ Brotherhood.’  ” 


1—4 


50  JOHN  EVERETT  MILLAIS  [1848- 

Hunt,  it  should  be  explained,  first  met  Rossetti  in  the  Royal 
Academy  schools,  where  as  fellow-students  they  occasionally 
talked  together.  Rossetti,  however,  was  an  intermittent 
attendant  rather  than  a methodical  student,  and  presently, 
wearying  of  the  work,  he  gave  it  up  and  took  to  literature, 
hoping  to  make  a living  by  his  pen.  Here  again  he  was 
disappointed.  His  poems,  charming  as  many  of  them  were, 
did  not  meet  with  the  wide  acceptance  he  had  hoped  for, 
and  in  a fit  of  despondency  he  came  to  Hunt  and  begged 
him  to  take  him  into  his  studio.  But  Holman  Hunt  could 
not  do  this  — he  was  far  too  busy  working  for  a livelihood, 
with  little  time  to  spare  for  the  indulgence  of  his  own  taste 
as  an  artist ; but  he  laid  down  a plan  of  work  to  be  followed 
by  Rossetti  in  his  own  home,  and  promised  to  visit  him 
there  and  give  him  all  the  help  he  could. 

Not  satisfied  with  this,  Rossetti  betook  himself  to  Madox 
Brown,  whose  style  of  painting  he  admired,  and  who,  he 
hoped,  would  teach  him  the  technicalities  of  his  art,  while 
allowing  him  free  play  in  all  his  fancies.  Madox  Brown, 
however,  had  been  through  the  mill  himself,  and  knew  there 
was  no  short  cut  to  success.  So,  much  to  the  disgust  of 
Rossetti,  he  set  him  to  paint  studies  of  still-life,  such  as 
pots,  jugs,  etc.  By-and-by  this  became  intolerable  to  a 
man  of  Rossetti’s  temperament,  so  he  once  more  returned 
to  Hunt,  and  begged  him  to  take  compassion  on  him;  and 
at  last,  moved  by  his  appeal,  Hunt  consented. 

These  are  Hunt's  words  on  the  subject:  “When  D.  G. 
Rossetti  came  to  me  he  talked  about  his  hopes  and  ideals, 
or  rather  his  despair,  at  ever  being  able  to  paint.  I,  how- 
ever, encouraged  him,  and  told  him  of  the  compact  that 
Millais  and  I had  made,  and  the  confidence  others  had 
in  our  system.  Rossetti  was  a man  who  enthusiastically 
took  up  an  idea,  and  he  went  about  disseminating  our 
programme  as  one  to  be  carried  out  by  numbers.  He 
offered  himself  first,  as  he  knew  that  Millais  had  admired 
his  pen-and-ink  drawings.  He  then  suggested  as  converts 
Collinson,  his  own  brother  William,  who  intended  to  take 
up  art,  and  Woolner,  the  sculptor.  Stephens  should  also 
be  tried,  and  it  struck  him  that  others  who  had  never  done 
anything  yet  to  prove  their  fitness  for  art  reformation,  or 
even  for  art  at  all,  were  to  be  taken  on  trust.  Your  father 
then  invited  us  all  to  spend  the  evening  in  his  studio,  where 
he  showed  us  engravings  from  the  Campo  Santo,  and  other 


1852] 


PRE-RAPHAELITISM 


5 1 


T 


ijc . :: 'I 

w 


somewhat  archaic  designs.  These  being  admired  much  by 
the  new  candidates,  we  agreed  that  it  might  be  safe  to  accept 
the  additional  four  members  on  probation  ; but,  in  fact,  it 
really  never  came  to  anything.” 

The  first  meeting,  at  which  terms  of  co-operation  were 
seriously  discussed,  was  held  on  a certain  night  in  1S48, 
at  Millais’  home  in  Gower  Street,  where  the  young  artist 
exhibited,  as  examples  of  sound  work, 
some  volumes  of  engravings  from  the 
frescoes  of  Benozzo  Gozzoli,  Orcagna,  ^ 

and  others  now  in  the  Campo  Santo 
at  Pisa. 

“ Now,  look  here,”  said  Millais, 
speaking  for  himself  and  Hunt,  who 
were  both  jealous  of  others  joining 
them  without  a distinct  understanding 
of  their  object,  “ this  is  what  the 
Pre-Raphaelite  clique  should  follow.” 

The  idea  was  eagerly  taken  up,  and 
then,  or  shortly  afterwards,  William 
Rossetti,  Woolner,  F.  G.  Stephens 
(now  an  Art  critic),  and  James  Collin- 
son  joined  the  Brotherhood  — the 
P.-R.  B.,  as  it  was  now  called. 

Arthur  Hughes,  Frederic  Sandys, 

Noel  Paton,  Charles  Collins,  and 
Walter  Deverell  also  sympathised 
with  their  aims,  and  were  more  or 
less  working:  on  the  same  lines. 

Coventry  Patmore,  the  poet,  although 
in  close  association  with  many  of  the 
Brotherhood,  was  not  himself  a mem- 
ber, as  the  association  was  strictly 
limited  to  working  artists. 

Writing  on  this  subject  in  the 
Contemporary  Review  of  May,  18S0, 

Mr.  Holman  Hunt  says:  “Outside  of  the  enrolled  body 
[the.  P.-R.  B.]  were  several  artists  of  real  calibre  and  en- 
thusiasm, who  were  working  diligently  with  our  views 
guiding  them.  W.  H.  Deverell,  Charles  Collins,  and 
Arthur  Hughes  may  be  named.  It  was  a question  whether 
any  of  them  should  be  elected.  It  was  already  evident 
that  to  have  authority  to  put  the  mystic  monogram  upon 


; i it 

0 


m 


m 


wii 


Pencil  Design  for 
PRE-RAPHAELITE  ETCHING 
Intended  for  The  Germ.  1849 


52  JOHN  EVERETT  MILLAIS  [is4s- 

their  paintings  could  confer  no  benefit  on  men  striving  to 
earn  a position.  We  ourselves  even  determined  for  a time 
to  discontinue  the  floating  of  this  red  rag  before  the  eyes 
of  infuriated  John  Bull,  and  we  decided  it  was  better  to 
let  our  converts  be  known  only  by  their  works,  and  so 
nominally  Pre-Raphaelitism  ceased  to  be.  We  agreed  to 
resume  the  open  profession  of  it  later,  but  the  time  had 
not  yet  come.  I often  read  in  print  that  I am  now  the 
only  Pre-Raphaelite ; yet  I can't  use  the  distinguishing 
letters,  for  I have  no  Brotherhood.” 

And  now  perhaps  I may  as  well  give  my  father’s  version 
of  the  matter  as  gathered  from  his  own  lips  in  1896,  the  year 
when  he  was  elected  as  President  of  the  Royal  Academy. 
At  that  time  the  papers,  of  course,  had  much  to  say  about 
his  art  life;  and,  finding  that  some  of  them  referred  pointedly 
to  D.  G.  Rossetti’s  influence  on  the  style  and  character 
of  his  work,  I asked  him  to  tell  me  exactly  what  were  his 
relations  with  Rossetti,  and  how  far  these  comments  were 
correct. 

“ I doubt  very  much,”  lie  said,  “ whether  any  man  ever 
gets  the  credit  of  being  quite  square  and  above-board  about 
his  life  and  work.  The  public  are  like  sheep.  They  follow 
each  other  in  admiring  what  they  don't  understand  \Omne 
ignotum  pro  magnified},  and  rarely  take  a man  at  what  he 
is  worth.  If  you  affect  a mysterious  air,  and  are  clever 
enough  to  conceal  your  ignorance,  you  stand  a fair  chance 
of  being  taken  for  a wiser  man  than  you  are  ; but  if  you  talk 
frankly  and  freely  of  yourself  and  your  work,  as  you  know 
I do,  the  odds  are  that  any  silly  rumour  you  may  fail  to 
contradict  will  be  accepted  as  true.  That  is  just  what  has 
happened  to  me.  The  papers  are  good  enough  to  speak 
of  me  as  a typical  English  artist ; but  because  in  my  early 
days  I saw  a good  deal  of  Rossetti  — the  mysterious  and 
un-English  Rossetti  — they  assume  that  my  Pre-Raphaelite 
impulses  in  pursuit  of  light  and  truth  were  due  to  him. 
All  nonsense!  My  pictures  would  have  been  exactly  the 
same  if  I had  never  seen  or  heard  of  Rossetti.  I liked  him 
very  much  when  we  first  met,  believing  him  to  be  (as 
perhaps  he  was)  sincere  in  his  desire  to  further  our  aims  — 
Hunt’s  and  mine  — but  I always  liked  his  brother  William 
much  better.  D.  G.  Rossetti,  you  must  understand,  was 
a queer  fellow,  and  impossible  as  a boon  companion  — so 
dogmatic  and  so  irritable  when  opposed.  His  aims  and 


GRANDFATHER  AND  CHILD 


1852] 


PRE-RAPHAELITISM 


55 


ideals  in  art  were  also  widely  different  from  ours,  and  it  was 
not  long  before  he  drifted  away  from  us  to  follow  his  own 
peculiar  fancies.  What  they  were  may  he  seen  from  his 
subsequent  works.  They  were  highly  imaginative  and 
original,  and  not  without  elements  of  beauty,  hut  they  were 
not  Nature.  At  last,  when  he  presented  for  our  admiration 
the  young  women  which  have  since  become  the  type  of 
Rossettianism,  the  public  opened  their  eyes  in  amazement. 

‘ And  this,’  they  said,  ‘ is  Pre-Raphaelitism  ! ’ It  was  nothing 
of  the  sort.  The  Pre-Raphaelites  had  but  one  idea  — to 
present  on  canvas  what  they  saw  in  Nature;  and  such 
productions  as  these  were  absolutely  foreign  to  the  spirit 
of  their  work. 

“The  only  one  of  my  pictures  that  I can  think  of  as 
showing  what  is  called  the  influence  of  Rossetti  is  the 
‘ Isabella,’  in  which  some  of  the  vestments  were  worked 
out  in  accordance  with  a book  of  mediaeval  costumes  which 
he  was  kind  enough  to  lend  me.  It  was  Hunt  — not  Rossetti 

— whom  I habitually  consulted  in  case  of  doubt.  He  was 
my  intimate  friend  and  companion  ; and  though,  at  the  time 
I am  speaking  of,  all  my  religious  subjects  were  chosen  and 
composed  by  myself,  I was  always  glad  to  hear  what  he 
had  to  say  about  them,  and  not  infrequently  to  act  upon 
his  suggestions.  We  were  working  together  then,  and 
constantly  criticised  each  other’s  pictures.” 

The  friendly  intercourse  between  Millais  and  D.  G. 
Rossetti  lasted  but  four  years,  from  1848  to  1852.  From 
1852  to  1854  they  met  occasionally,  but  after  that  they  rarely 
came  into  contact,  and  in  1 8 5 6 even  these  casual  meet- 
ings came  to  an  end.  One  reads  then  with  a smile  such 
observations  as  this  in  Mr.  Spielmann’s  Millais  and  his 
Works  (1898):  — “This  is  no  time  to  examine  the  principles 
and  the  bearings  of  this  oft-discussed  mission  of  eclectics; 
but  it  may  at  least  be  pointed  out  how  clear  a proof  of  what 
can  be  done  by  co-operation,  even  in  art,  are  the  achieve- 
ments of  the  school.  Millais’  great  pictures  of  that  period 

— in  many  qualities  really  great  — are  certainly  the  com- 
bination of  the  influence  of  others’  powers  besides  his  own. 
His  is  the  wonderful  execution,  the  brilliant  drawing;  but 
Dante  Rossetti’s  perfervid  imagination  was  on  one  side 
of  him,  and  Holman  Hunt’s  powerful  intellect  and  resolution 
were  on  the  other;  while,  perhaps,  the  analytical  mind 
of  Mr.  William  Rossetti  and  the  literary  outlook  of  Mr. 


56  JOHN  EVERETT  MILLAIS  [1848- 

F.  G.  Stephens  were  not  without  influence  upon  his  work. 
In  a few  short  years  these  supports  were  withdrawn  from 
Millais’  art,  in  which  we  find  the  execution  still,  but  where  — 
at  least  in  the  same  degree  — the  intellect  or  the  imagination  / ” 

The  “ supports,”  as  Mr.  Spielmann  calls  them,  never  ex- 
isted ; and  as  to  “ intellect  ” and  “ imagination,”  is  there  noth- 
ing of  these  in  “ Ferdinand  lured  by  Ariel,”  “ Mariana,”  “ The 
Blind  Girl,”  “ L’Enfant  du  Regiment,"  or  “ The  Woodman’s 
Daughter,”  with  none  of  which  had  Rossetti  any  concern  ? 
Indeed,  as  to  the  three  last-named  pictures,  I think  I am 
right  in  saying  that  Rossetti  never  saw  them  until  they  were 
hung  on  the  Academy  walls.  The  “ Huguenot,”  too,  and 
the  “ Ophelia  ” were  seen  but  once  by  him  when  the 
paintings  were  in  process,  and  that  was  at  Worcester  Park 
Farm,  when  he  and  Madox  Brown  called  and  expressed  their 
approval.  And  now  I leave  it  to  my  readers  to  say  whether 
the  “Isabella”  (the  only  pure  mediaeval  subject)  surpasses 
in  point  of  design,  execution,  or  sentiment  such  of  Millais’ 
later  works  as  “ The  Rescue,”  “ The  Order  of  Release,” 
“ The  Proscribed  Royalist,”  or  fifty  others  that  could  be 
named.  My  father  hated  humbug;  and  if  Rossetti  had 
been  the  guiding  spirit  of  his  works,  as  certain  critics 
represent,  he  would  have  been  the  first  to  acknowledge  it.# 
It  was  the  poetry  of  Nature  that  appealed  to  him  — the  love, 
hope,  sweetness,  and  purity  that  he  found  there  — and  it  was 
the  passionate  desire  to  express  what  he  felt  so  deeply  that 
spurred  him  on  from  the  beginning  to  the  end  of  his  art  life. 

The  distinguishing  characteristics  of  Pre-Raphaelite 
workers  are  well  set  forth  by  Mr.  Kennedy  in  a recent 
article  in  that  excellent  magazine  The  Artist.  He  says, 
“The  three  chief  members  of  the  Pre-Raphaelite  Brother- 
hood— Rossetti,  Millais,  and  Holman  Hunt  — were  men  of 
personalities  and  endowments  that  were  striking  in  the 
extreme  — born  makers  of  epochs,  men  who,  whatever  the 
vocation  that  they  had  elected  to  follow,  would  undoubtedly 
have  left  shaping  traces  of  their  individualities  upon  it. 

“And,  to  set  themselves  to  work  in  triple  harness,  they 
were  a trio  of  a singular  diversity  of  aims  and  of  gifts ; one 
may  add  of  destinies.  Quite  extraordinary  was  the  dis- 
similarity between  the  kinds  of  success  attained  by  each  of 
them.  Millais  trod  swiftly  and  straightly  the  path  of  popular 

* It  is  a significant  fact  that  in  my  father’s  letters  of  this  period  (1S49-1S53), 
the  name  of  D.  G.  Rossetti  is  hardly  ever  mentioned. 


1852] 


PRE-RAPHAELITISM 


57 


approbation  and  academic  honours,  culminating  finally  in 
the  highest  dignity  that  the  Royal  Academy  has  to  bestow. 
Rossetti  and  Holman  Hunt,  after  the  first,  held  themselves 
completely  aloof  from  the  Academy  and  all  its  works. 
Alike  in  this,  how  different  were  their  fames  in  all  else. 
During  the  larger  portion  of  his  working  life  Rossetti’s 
achievements  in  painting  were  absolutely  undreamed  of  by 
the  larger  public,  were  accessible  only  sparsely  and  with 
difficulty  to  his  admirers  even  outside  of  a limited  circle  of 
patrons  and  private  friends.  To  a good  many,  I fancy, 
Mr.  Swinburne’s  Notes  upon  the  Academy  of  1865,  de- 
scribing, amongst  others,  Sandys’  ‘ Medea  ’ and  Rossetti ’s 
‘ Lilith,’  contained  the  first  intimation  that  Rossetti  the 
poet  was  also  Rossetti  the  painter.  Holman  Hunt,  upon 
the  other  hand,  had  at  one  time  a popular  vogue  at  least 
as  great  as  that  of  Millais,  and  his  painted  work  excited 
emotions  and  enthusiasms,  of  a more  decided  intensity. 
Those  whose  memories  can  be  made  to  extend  back  to 
the  period  when  ‘ The  Finding  of  our  Saviour  in  the 
Temple’  was  being  exhibited  in  the  provinces,  will  recall 
the  vividness  of  the  impression  that  it  made  upon  the 
religious  public  of  its  day.  . . . They  found  in  Holman 
Hunt’s  paintings  something  of  a revelation.  Its  obvious 
sincerity,  its  intensity  of  conviction,  its  determined  realisa- 
tion of  the  scene  in  every  minutest  detail  of  its  setting, 
affected  profoundly  all  who  were  capable  of  being  deeply 
stirred  by  the  subject  depicted. 

“ Millais  was  gifted  with  a sense  of  sight  of  crystalline  clear- 
ness to  which  Nature  made  a perpetual  and  brilliant  appeal ; 
he  had  a hand  that,  even  in  childhood,  was  singularly  skilful 
to  record  the  impressions  of  the  eye.  And  his  hand  had 
been  severely  trained,  first  by  the  prescribed  academic 
methods,  and  later  by  the  minutely  elaborate  labour  of  his 
Pre-Raphaelite  work,  until  it  set  down  facts  almost  with  the 
facility  with  which  the  eye  perceived  them.  What,  then, 
was  Millais  the  Pre-Raphaelite  doing  in  that  particular 
galerc ? How  came  this  straightforward  depictor  of  what 
he  saw  before  him  to  link  himself  with  idealists  and 
dreamers  of  dreams?  It  was  probably  the  earnestness  and 
the  devotion  to  the  nature  of  the  movement  that  attracted 
the  youthful  Millais,  and  also  the  scope  that  its  conscientious 
minuteness  of  finish  afforded  him  for  the  display  of  his  even 
then  astonishing  technical  powers.” 


[ 1 848— 


58  JOHN  EVERETT  MILLAIS 

As  to  Rossetti,  the  fact  is  he  was  never  a Pre-Raphaelite 
at  heart.  Himself  a man  of  great  originality,  and  a free- 
thinker in  matters  of  Art,  he  was  captivated  by  the  inde- 
pendent spirit  of  the  Brotherhood,  and  readily  cast  in  his  lot 
with  them.  But  it  was  only  for  a time.  By  degrees  their 
methods  palled  upon  his  taste,  and  not  caring  any  longer  to 
uphold  them  before  the  public,  he  broke  away  from  his  old 
associates,  determined  to  follow  the  peculiar  bent  of  his 
genius,  which  taught  him  not  to  go  to  Nature  for  his  inspira- 
tions, but  to  follow  rather  the  flights  of  his  own  fancy.  His 
subsequent  career  is  sufficient  evidence  of  that.  Only  two 


PRE-RAPHAELITE  SKETCH.  1850 
Probably  the  artist’s  first  idea  of  “ Apple  Blossoms  ” 


years  after  he  first  joined  the  Brotherhood,  Mr.  Hunt,  who 
taught  him  all  the  technique  he  ever  knew,  got  him  to  come 
down  to  Knole  to  paint  a background  straight  from  Nature 
whilst  he  overlooked  and  helped  him.  After  two  days,  how- 
ever, Rossetti  was  heartily  sick  of  Nature,  and  bolted  back  to 
London  and  its  artificial  life. 

In  course  of  time  the  instruction  he  had  received  from 
Hunt  began  to  bear  fruit  — one  sees  this  in  his  picture  called 
“The  Girlhood  of  the  Virgin”  — and  with  further  practice 
his  art  improved  rapidly,  and  continued  to  do  so  as  years 
went  on. 

The  great  mistake  that  nearly  all  the  critics  make  is  in 
confounding  Rossetti's  later  work,  which  is  imaginative, 
sincere,  and  entirely  of  his  own  conception,  with  his  Pre- 


I 


I 


DESIGN  OF  A PICTURE  OF  ‘-THE  CANTERBURY  PILGRIMS.”  1850 


PRE-RAPHAELITISM 


1852] 


6 1 


Raphaelite  work,  of  which  he  really  did  very  little.  They 
call  his  pictures  such  as  “ La  bella  mano,”  “ Proserpine,” 
“ Venus  Verticordia,”  “ Dante  and  Beatrice,”  Pre-Raphaelite, 
which  they  are  not  in  the  very  least.  They  belong  to  an 
entirely  different  school,  which  he  himself  founded,  and  which 
has  since  had  such  able  exponents  as  Mr.  Strudwick  and  Sir 
Edward  Burne-Jones. 

A common  mistake  that  critics  make  is  in  assuming  that 
the  Pre-Raphaelite  movement  owed  its  origin  to  Mr.  Ruskin. 
Amongst  other  writers  on  the  subject  is  Max  Nordau,  and 
his  statements  are  for  the  most  part  entirely  wrong.  He 
attributes  the  origin  of  the  Brotherhood  to  the  teachings  of 
Ruskin,  but  Holman  Hunt  and  Millais  were  Pre-Raphaelites 
before  Ruskin  ever  wrote  a line  on  the  subject.  At  the 
Academy  one  of  Mr.  Ruskin’s  admirers  lent  Hunt  a copy  of 
Modern  Painters , and  Hunt  read  it  with  enthusiasm,  as 
partially  embodying  his  own  preconceived  ideal  of  art. 
Millais,  however,  when  asked  to  read  the  work,  resolutely 
refused  to  do  so,  saying  he  had  his  own  ideas,  and,  convinced 
of  their  absolute  soundness,  he  should  carry  them  out  regard- 
less of  what  any  man  might  say.  He  would  look  neither  to 
the  right  nor  to  the  left,  but  pursue  unflinchingly  the  course 
he  had  marked  out  for  himself.  And  so  he  did. 

Besides  what  my  father  has  told  me  over  and  over  again,  I 
have  it  from  Mr.  Holman  Hunt,  his  life-long  friend,  that  he 
was  never  for  a moment  influenced  by  Ruskin’s  teachings. 
Mr.  Ruskin,  it  is  true,  held  Millais  up  as  the  shining  light 
of  the  Pre-Raphaelites,  and  explained  his  pictures  to  the 
multitude  according  to  his  own  ideas  ; but  that  of  course 
proves  no  more  than  that  he  admired  my  father's  work,  and 
approved  what  he  believed  to  be  the  object  of  his  aim. 

Probably  no  artist  in  England  ever  read  less  on  art  or 
on  his  own  doings  than  did  Millais.  On  rare  occasions 
criticisms  were  forced  upon  his  notice,  and  he  read  them  ; but 
faith  in  himself  and  his  own  opinions  was  his  only  guide  in 
determining  what  was  good  or  bad  in  a picture,  whether  his 
own  or  that  of  another  artist.  When  his  work  was  done  he 
banished  all  thought  of  it  as  far  as  possible,  and  when  by 
chance  his  friend  Dr.  Urquhart,  of  Perth,  called  his  attention 
to  Max  Nordau 's  statement  that  Ruskin  was  the  originator 
and  moving  spirit  of  the  Pre-Raphaelites  in  their  early  days, 
he  indignantly  denied  it ; and,  after  reading  the  passages  the 
next  day,  he  wrote  to  Mrs.  Urquhart  a letter  in  which  he 


62 


JOHN  EVERETT  MILLAIS  [1848- 

gave  a rough  history  of  Pre-Raphaelitism,  and  characterised 
Nordau’s  remarks  as  “twaddling  rubbish  on  a subject  of 
which  he  knows  absolutely  nothing.” 

Mr.  Ruskin  held  that  Art  should  be  a great  moral  teacher, 
with  religion  as  its  basis  and  mainspring;  but  Millais,  while 
agreeing  with  much  of  that  critic’s  writings,*  was  never  quite 
at  one  with  him  on  this  point.  He  certainly  held  that  Art 
should  have  a great  and  abiding  purpose,  giving  all  its 
strength  to  the  beautifying  or  ennoblement  of  whatever 
subject  it  touched,  either  sacred  or  secular;  but  though 
himself  at  heart  a truly  religious  man,  he  could  not  harp 
on  one  string  alone,  nor  would  his  impulsive  originality, 
absolutely  untrammelled  by  the  opinions  of  others,  allow 
him  to  paint  pictures  in  which  he  had  no  heart  at  the 
dictation  of  any  man,  however  eminent. 

Holman  Hunt,  too,  painted  his  religious  pictures  on  the 
Ruskin  lines  really  as  the  outcome  of  the  high  ideals  he 
had  set  up  for  himself  from  the  outset.  “ Truth  and  the 
free  field  of  unadulterated  Nature ’’was  the  motto  of  these 
originators.  As  Pope  says,  they  “looked  through  Nature 
up  to  Nature’s  God,”  being  sincere  in  their  art,  and  reso- 
lutely determined  to  pursue  it  to  its  highest  ends. 

In  saying  this  I by  no  means  lose  sight  of  the  fact  that 
the  Pre-Raphaelites  one  and  all  owed  much  to  Mr.  Ruskin  for 
his  championship  of  their  cause  when  he  came  to  the  know- 
ledge of  what  they  were  striving  to  achieve.  With  an  elo- 
quence to  which  probably  no  equal  can  be  found  in  the  annals 
of  art  criticism,  he  explained  to  an  unsympathetic  public 
the  aim  and  objects  of  the  Brotherhood,  and  it  goes  without 
saying  that  they  were  highly  gratified  by  his  championship. 
When  too,  later  on,  he  turned  round  and  abused  some  of 
Millais’  best  works  as  heartily  as  he  had  praised  some  others, 
the  circumstance  was  regarded  by  Millais  amongst  others 
as  merely  one  of  the  inconsistencies  into  which  genius  is 
apt  to  fall.  No  one  ever  doubted  the  sincerity  of  his  motive. 
Pie  expressed  only  what  he  believed  to  be  right,  and  in 
so  far  as  he  was  wrong  he  helped  rather  than  injured  the 
painter’s  fame. 

Before  the  Brotherhood  was  formally  constituted,  another 
association,  called  “ The  Cyclographic  Club,”  came  into 
existence,  its  object  being  to  establish  and  circulate  amongst 

* Millais  knew  nothing  of  Ruskin’s  writings  until  1S51,  when  a letter  of  his 
appeared  in  the  Times. 


THE  DISENTOMBMENT  OF  QUEEN  MATILDA.  1849 
Pre-Raphaelite  Drawing 
By  permissio7i  of  Mrs.  Brocklebank 


1852] 


PRE-RAPHAELITISM 


65 

the  members  a kind  of  portfolio  of  art  and  criticism.  Each 
member  had  to  contribute  once  a month  a black-and-white 
drawing,  on  the  back  of  which  the  other  members  were 
to  write  critiques.  This  club,  if  it  may  be  so  called,  was 
founded  by  N.  E.  Green,  Burchell,  and  Deverell,  and  was 
afterwards  joined  by  Millais,  Hunt,  Rossetti,  and  Arthur 
Hughes.  In  a contribution  to  The  Letters  of  D.  G.  Rossetti 
to  William  Allingham  Mr.  Hughes  says,  “ Millais,  who  was 
the  only  man  amongst  us  who  had  any  money,  provided 
a nice  green  portfolio  with  a lock  in  which  to  keep  the 
drawings.  Millais  did  his  drawing,  and  one  or  two  others 
did  theirs.  Then  the  ‘ Folio  ’ came  to  Rossetti,  where  it 


PRE-RAPHAELITE  DRAWING  FOR  HIS  “GERM.”  (Not  used) 


stuck  for  ever.  It  never  reached  me.  According  to  his 
wont,  he  (Rossetti)  had  at  first  been  most  enthusiastic  over 
the  scheme,  and  had  so  infected  Millais  with  his  enthusiasm 
that  he  had  at  once  ordered  the  case.”  * 

On  this  subject  Mr.  Hughes  sends  me  the  following  note  : 
“ In  connection  with  the  circulating  folio  for  designs,  a few 
members  of  the  Brotherhood  met  one  evening  at  Rossetti’s 
rooms  at  Chatham  Place  t — Rossetti,  Deverell,  and  myself  — 

* Mr.  Holman  Hunt  says  his  “ influence”  is  purely  imaginary.  Millais  had  the 
•‘enthusiasm”  for  designs  in  pen-and-ink,  and  liked  to  see  what  others  did. 
Some  of  the  drawings  were  in  colour.  He  adds,  “ I don’t  think  we  ever  had 
any  meeting,  and  after  about  four  peregrinations  we  (Millais,  Hunt,  and  Rossetti) 
seceded,  because  the  contributions  were  so  poor  and  the  portfolio  never  arrived.” 
f This,  I think,  is  a mistake,  as  Rossetti  did  not  go  to  Chatham  Place  till 
1853,  when  the  Cyclographic  Club  had  ceased  to  exist.  Perhaps  Mr.  Hughes  was 
thinking  of  the  club  which  Lady  Waterford  and  E.  V.  B.  tried  to  organise. 

1 — 5 


66  JOHN  EVERETT  MILLAIS  [,s4s- 

and  one  other,  perhaps,  but  I cannot  remember.  When 
Millais  came  in  he  asked  if  the  folio  had  arrived  from  him. 
Yes,  there  it  was.  Then  if  Madox  Brown  had  agreed  to 
join,  and  Rossetti  told  him  that  he  resisted  all  persuasion, 
and  would  not.  ‘What  a peevish  old  chap  he  is!’  cried 
Millais.  A little  later  he  noticed  that  Deverell  was  smoking 
a cigarette,  and  earnestly  exhorted  him  to  give  it  up. 

‘ Don’t,  Deverell,  don’t  take  to  smoking ; it  is  frightfully 
injurious,  it  palls  the  faculties.’  He  himself  succumbed 
later  on  ! ” 

The  Brotherhood,  it  may  be  mentioned,  neither  smoked, 
drank,  nor  swore,  and  that  at  a period  when,  as  Thackeray 
has  shown  us,  all  Bohemia  was  saturated  with  tobacco, 
spirits,  and  quaint  oaths.  Millais,  however,  after  attaining 
his  “ artistic  puberty,”  as  he  called  it,  came  to  regard  the 
pipe  of  peace  as  a friend  and  consoler  when  (as  he  some- 
times was)  well-nigh  distraught  with  his  work. 

Out  of  the  seven  Pre-Raphaelite  Brothers  five  were  good 
men  with  their  pens,  and  the  Brotherhood  being  eager  to 
defend  the  position  they  had  taken  up,  were  only  too  glad 
when,  in  1S49,  it  was  proposed  to  start  a magazine  in  support 
of  their  common  creed.  In  the  autumn  of  that  year  they  met 
together  in  Mr.  Hunt’s  room,  in  Cleveland  Street,  to  arrange 
preliminaries  with  a view  to  early  publication,  when  various 
plans  and  names  for  the  magazine  were  discussed,  and  at 
last,  on  the  suggestion  of  Mr.  William  Cave  Thomas,  it  was 
decided  to  call  it  The  Germ. 

Arrangements  were  then  made  with  a publisher,  pens  and 
pencils  were  set  agoing,  and  in  1S49  the  first  number  of  the 
periodical  appeared  in  print.  Millais’  share  in  this  seems 
to  have  been  limited  to  two  or  three  illustrations,  which 
are  now  in  my  possession.  He  took,  however,  a great 
interest  in  the  work,  and  subsequently  wrote  a complete 
story  for  publication ; but,  alas ! before  the  time  for  this 
arrived  the  magazine  came  to  an  end  for  lack  of  funds  to 
keep  it  alive. 

Only  four  numbers  ever  appeared,  and  these  are  now  so 
scarce  that  at  a recent  sale  by  auction  a complete  set 
fetched  £ 100.  I give  here  an  illustration  that  was  done 
by  Millais  for  one  of  Rossetti’s  stories  in  this  paper,  but  it 
was  never  published. 

In  the  Idler  of  March,  1898,  Mr.  Ernest  Radford  has 
some  interesting  notes  on  The  Germ  — “ the  respiratory 


1852] 


PRE-RAPHAELITISM 


67 

organ  of  the  Brethren,”  * as  he  humorously  calls  it.  It 
was  edited,  lie  tells  us,  by  Mr.  W.  M.  Rossetti,  and  printed 
by  a Mr.  G.  F.  Tupper,  on  whose  suggestion  the  title 
was  changed  in  the  third  number  to  the  more  common- 
place one  of  Art  and  Poetry ; and,  besides  many  valuable 
illustrations,  it  comprised  contributions  in  prose  and  poetry 
by  the  Rossettis  (Christina  and  her  two  brothers),  Madox 
Brown,  F.  G.  Stephens,  Coventry  Patmore,  Thomas 
Woolner,  and  various  smaller  lights.  Millais,  he  says, 
“ who  never  practised  an  art  without  mastering  it  . . . 
etched  one  plate  in  illustration  of  a poem  by  Rossetti,  which 


r ir> 

S L 

v kT  , y i- 

''15  C \ 


id 


{ 


1 

' 

■y  f ; 
4/l-i! 

C Mb 

W i 


DRAWING  IN  PENCIL 

Intended  to  illustrate  a story  by  D.  G.  Rossetti  in  the  fifth  number  of  The  Germ.  This 
drawing  Millais  afterwards  etched,  and  a few  copies  of  the  plate  are  in  existence 


was  to  have  graced  the  fifth  number,”  but  both  etching  and 
poem  have  disappeared.  The  drawing  for  the  etching  is, 
I fancy,  amongst  those  in  my  possession. 

He  also  wrote  a story  for  the  paper,  which  would  have 
appeared  in  the  fifth  number  had  the  periodical  survived 
so  long.  The  following  is  a brief  outline  of  the  tale:  A 
knight  is  in  love  with  the  daughter  of  a king  who  lived  in 
a moated  castle.  His  affection  is  returned  but  the  king 
swears  to  kill  him  if  he  attempts  to  see  his  lady-love.  The 
lovers  sigh  for  each  other,  but  there  is  no  opportunity  for 
meeting  till  the  winter  comes  and  the  moat  is  frozen  over. 

* It  was  not  of  the  “Brethren”  only,  others  who  were  in  sympathy  with 
them  also  took  part  in  the  publication. 


68 


JOHN  EVERETT  MILLAIS  [.848-1852 

The  knight  then  passes  over  the  ice,  and,  scaling  the  walls 
of  the  castle,  carries  off  the  lady.  As  they  rush  across  the 
ice  sounds  of  alarm  are  heard  within,  and  at  that  moment 
the  surface  gives  way,  and  they  are  seen  no  more  in  life. 
The  old  king  is  inconsolable.  Years  pass  by,  and  the  moat 
is  drained  ; the  skeletons  of  the  two  lovers  are  then  found 
locked  in  each  other's  arms,  the  water-worn  muslin  of  the 
lady’s  dress  still  clinging  to  the  points  of  the  knight’s 
armour. 

It  seems  from  a letter  of  Rossetti’s  to  W.  B.  Scott  that, 
after  the  Cyclographic  Club  and  The  Germ  had  come  to  an 
end,  Millais  tried  to  found  amongst  the  Pre-Raphaelite 
Brothers  and  their  allies  a sketching  club,  which  would  also 
include  two  ladies,  namely,  the  beautiful  Marchioness  of 
Waterford  and  the  Honourable  Mrs.  Boyle  (then  known  as 
E.  V.  B.),  both  these  ladies  being  promising  artists,  above 
the  rank  of  amateurs  ; but  this  scheme  also  fell  through. 


CHAPTER  III 


“ Lorenzo  and  Isabella  ” — A prime  joke  — “ Christ  in  the  home  of  His  parents  ” — 
The  onslaught  of  the  critics  — • Charles  Dickens  unfavourable  — Millais  at  work 
— The  newspapers  send  him  to  Australia  — The  P.  R.  B.  draw  each  other  for 
Woolner  — The  bricklayers’ opinion  — The  elusive  nugget — “ Ferdinand  lured 
by  Ariel!’ — The  ultra-cautious  dealer — Millais  at  the  theatre  painting 
portraits  — His  sale  of  “ Ferdinand  ” — Mr.  Stephens  tells  of  his  sittings  for 
“Ferdinand’s”  head — • Mr.  and  Mrs.  Thomas  Combe- — Their  kindness  to 
Millais  — Millais’  letters  to  the  Combes  — His  life  in  London  — The  Collins 
family — Letters  about  “The  Woodman’s  Daughter”  and  “The  Flood"  — 
“ Mariana  ” — An  obliging  mouse  — “ The  Woodman’s  Daughter  ” — William 
Millais  on  the  picture  — The  artist’s  devotion  to  truth  — Ruskin  on  the  Pre- 
Raphaelites — He  champions  their  cause — His  unreliability  as  a critic. 

MILLAIS’  first  big  work  in  which  lie  threw  down 
the  gauntlet  to  the  critics,  marking  his  picture  with 
tie  hated  P.  R.  B.  signature,  was  “ Lorenzo  and  Isabella,”  the 
subject  being  taken  from  Keats’  paraphrase  of  Boccaccio’s 
story  : — 

“ Fair  Isabel,  poor  simple  Isabel  ! 

Lorenzo,  a young  palmer  in  Love’s  eye. 

They  could  not  in  the  self-same  mansion  dwell 
Without  some  stir  of  heart,  some  malady  ; 

They  could  not  sit  at  meals  but  feel  how  well 
It  soothed  each  to  be  the  other  by ; 

They  could  not,  sure,  beneath  the  same  roof  sleep, 

But  to  each  other  dream  and  nightly  weep.” 

All  the  figures  were  painted  from  the  artist’s  own  friends 
and  relations.  Mrs.  Hodgkinson  (wife  of  Millais'  half- 
brother)  sat  for  Isabella  ; Millais’  father,  shorn  of  his  beard, 
sat  for  the  man  wiping  his  lips  with  a napkin ; William 
Rossetti  sat  for  Lorenzo ; Mr.  Hugh  Pen  is  paring  an 
apple  ; and  D.  G.  Rossetti  is  seen  at  the  end  of  the  table 
drinking  from  a long  glass;  whilst  the  brother,  spitefully 
kicking  the  dog,  in  the  foreground,  was  Mr.  Wright,  an 
architect ; and  a student  named  Harris.  Mr.  P.  G.  Stephens 
is  supposed  to  have  sat  for  the  head  which  appears  between 
the  watching  brother  and  his  wineglass ; and  a student 

69 


7° 


JOHN  EVERETT  MILLAIS 


[1848 


named  Plass  stood  for  the  serving-man.  Poor  Walter 
Deverell  is  also  there. 

Millais  planned  this  work  as  late  as  November,  1848,  and 
carried  it  on,  as  Mr.  Holman  Hunt  says,  “at  a pace  beyond 
all  calculation,”  producing  in  the  end  “the  most  wonderful 
picture  in  the  world  for  a lad  of  twenty.” 


And  now  let  us  see  what  the  critics  had  to  say  about  it. 
F;  'user's  Magazine  of  fuly,  1849,  was,  to  say  the  least, 
encouraging  ; witness  the  following  critique  : — “ Among  the 
multitude  of  minor  pictures  at  the  Academy,  nearly  all  of 
which,  we  are  bound  to  say,  exhibit  more  than  an  average 
degree  of  excellence,  one  stands  out  distinguished  from  the 
rest.  It  is  the  work  of  a young  artist  named  Millais,  whose 

J O 1 


DANTE  GABRIEL  ROSSETTI 


Study  for  “ Lorenzo  and  Isabella.”  1848 


“LORENZO  AND  ISABELLA.”  1848 
By  permission  0/ the  Corporation  0/ Liverpool 


S 


1 849] 


“LORENZO  AND  ISABELLA” 


73 


name  we  do  not  remember  to  have  seen  before.  The  subject 
is  taken  from  Keats’  quaint,  charming  and  pathetic  poem, 
‘Isabella.’  The  whole  family  are  seated  at  a table ; Lorenzo 
is  speaking  with  timid  adoration  to  Isabella,  the  conscious- 
ness of  dependency  and  of  the  contempt  in  which  he  is  held  by 
her  brothers  being  stamped  on  his  countenance.  The  figures 
of  the  brothers,  especially  of  him  who  sits  nearest  to  the 
front,  are  drawn  and  coloured  with  remarkable  power.  The 
attitude  of  this  brother,  as  his  leg  is  stretched  out  to  kick 
Isabella’s  dog,  is  vigorous  and  original.  The  colour  of  the 
picture  is  very  delicate  and  beautiful.  Like  Mr.  [Ford 
Madox]  Brown,  however,  this  young  artist,  although  ex- 
hibiting unquestionable  genius,  is  evidently  enslaved  by 
preference  for  a false  style.  There  is  too  much  mannerism 
in  the  picture  ; but  the  talent  of  the  artist  will,  we  doubt  not, 
break  through  it.” 

And  Mr.  Stephens  was  still  more  complimentary.  In  the 
Grosvenor  Gallery  catalogue  of  the  year  1886  he  wrote:  — 
“ Every  detail,  tint,  surface  texture,  and  substance,  all  the 
flesh,  all  the  minutiae  of  the  accessories  were  offered  to  the 
exquisitely  keen  sight,  indefatigable  fingers,  unchangeable 
skill,  and  indomitable  patience  of  one  of  the  most  energetic 
of  painters.  Such  tenacity  and  technical  powers  were  never, 
since  the  German  followers  of  Differ  adopted  Italian  prin- 
ciples of  working,  exercised  on  a single  picture.  Van  Eyck 
did  not  study  details  of  ‘the  life’  more  unflinchingly  than 
Millais  in  this  case.  The  flesh  of  some  of  the  heads,  except 
so  far  as  the  face  of  ‘ Ferdinand  ' and  some  parts  of  Holman 
Hunt’s  contemporaneous  ‘ Rienzi,’  were  concerned,  remained 
beyond  comparison  in  finish  and  solidity  until  Millais  painted 
the  hands  in  ‘ The  Return  of  the  Dove  to  the  Ark.’  ” 

But  the  critics  were  not  all  of  this  mind  ; there  was  con- 
siderable diversity  of  opinion  amongst  them.  Some  were 
simply  silent;  but  of  those  who  noticed  the  work  at  all 
the  majority  spoke  of  it  in  terms  of  qualified  approval, 
regarding  it  rather  as  a tentative  departure  from  the 
beaten  track  of  Art  than  as  the  fruit  of  long  and  earnest 
conviction. 

By  the  general  public  it  was  looked  upon  as  a prime  joke, 
only  surpassing  in  absurdity  Mr.  Holman  Hunt’s  “ Rienzi,” 
which  was  exhibited  at  the  same  time,  and  was  equally  be- 
yond their  comprehension.  With  a plentiful  lack  of  wit,  they 
greeted  it  with  loud  laughter  or  supercilious  smiles,  and  in 


74 


JOHN  EVERETT  MILLAIS  [1849 

some  instances  even  the  proud  Press  descended  to  insults 
of  tire  most  personal  kind.  This,  however,  only  stiffened 
Millais’  resolution  to  proceed  on  his  own  lines,  and  to  defend 
against  all  comers  the  principles  on  which  the  Brotherhood 
was  founded.  The  picture  was  bought  of  the  artist  by  three 
combined  amateur  dealers,  who  sold  it  to  Mr.  Windus,  of 
Tottenham.  After  remaining  with  him  some  ten  or  twelve 
years  Gambart  bought  it,  and  again  sold  it  to  Woollier,  r.  a. 
It  is  now  in  the  possession  of  the  Corporation  of  Liverpool. 

In  the  following  year  was  exhibited  the  picture  commonly 
known  as  “Christ  in  the  Home  of  His  Parents,”  but  with  no 
other  title  than  the  following  quotation  from  Zechariah  xiii.  6 : 
“And  one  shall  say  unto  Him,  What  are  these  wounds  in 
Thine  hands?  Then  He  shall  answer,  Those  with  which  I 
was  wounded  in  the  house  of  My  friends.”  It  w^as  painted 
on  precisely  the  same  principle  as  was  that  which  had  called 
forth  the  derision  of  the  multitude,  and  as  both  Rossetti  and 
Mr.  Hunt  exhibited  at  the  same  time  important  pictures  of 
the  same  school,  there  could  no  longer  be  any  doubt  as  to  the 
serious  meaning  of  the  movement.  Then,  with  one  accord, 
their  opponents  fell  upon  Millais  as  the  prime  mover  in  the 
rebellion  against  established  precedent.  In  the  words  of  a 
latter-day  critic,  “ Men  who  knew  nothing  of  Art  reviled 
Millais  because  he  was  not  of  the  art,  artistic.  Dilettanti 
who  could  not  draw  a finger-tip  scolded  one  of  the  most 
accomplished  draughtsmen  of  the  age  because  he  delineated 
what  he  saw.  Cognoscenti  who  could  not  paint  rebuked 
the  most  brilliant  gold  medal  student  of  the  Royal  Academy 
on  account  of  his  technical  proceedings.  Critics  of  the  most 
rigid  views  belaboured  and  shrieked  at  an  original  genius, 
whose  struggles  and  whose  efforts  they  could  not  understand. 
Intolerant  and  tyrannical  commentators  condemned  the  youth 
of  twenty  because  he  dared  to  think  for  himself;  and,  to  sum 
up  the  burden  of  the  chorus  of  shame  and  false  judgment, 
there  was  hardly  a whisper  of  faith  or  hope,  or  even  of 
charity  — nay,  not  a sound  of  the  commonest  and  poorest 
courtesy  — vouchsafed  to  the  painter  of  ‘ I he  Carpenter’s 
Shop,’  as,  in  utter  scorn,  this  picture  was  originally  and 
contumeliously  called.” 

What  the  Academy  thought  of  it  may  be  gathered  from 
the  words  of  the  late  F.  B.  Barwell : “I  well  remember 
Mulready,  r.  a.  , alluding  to  the  picture  some  two  years  after 
its  exhibition.  He  said  that  it  had  few  admirers  inside  the 


ONSLAUGHT  OF  THE  CRITICS 


75 


1849] 

Royal  Academy  Council,  and  that  he  himself  and  Maclise 
alone  supported  its  claims  to  a favourable  consideration.” 

The  picture  itself,  devotional  and  symbolic  in  intent,  is 
too  well  known  to  need  any  description.  The  child  Christ 
is  seen  in  His  father’s  workshop  with  blood  flowing  from  His 
hand,  the  result  of  a recent  wound,  while  His  mother  waits 
upon  Him  with  loving  sympathy.  That  is  the  main  subject. 
And  now  let  us  see  how  it  was  treated  by  the  Press. 

Blackwood's  Magazine  dealt  with  it  in  this  wise:  “ We  can 
hardly  imagine  anything  more  ugly,  graceless,  and  unpleasant 
than  Mr.  Millais’  picture  of  ‘ Christ  in  the  Carpenter's  Shop.’ 
Such  a collection  of  splay  feet,  puffed  joints,  and  misshapen 
limbs  was  assuredly  never  before  made  within  so  small  a 
compass.  We  have  great  difficulty  in  believing  a report 
that  this  unpleasing  and  atrociously  affected  picture  has  found 
a purchaser  at  a high  price.  Another  specimen  from  the 
same  brush  inspires  rather  laughter  than  disgust.” 

That  was  pretty  strong  ; but,  not  to  be  left  behind  in 
the  race  to  accomplish  the  painter’s  ruin,  a leading  literary 
journal,  whose  Art  critic,  by  the  way,  was  a Royal  Acade- 
mician, delivered  itself  in  the  following  terms:  “Mr.  Millais 
in  his  picture  without  a name  (518),  which  represents  a holy 
family  in  the  interior  of  a carpenter’s  shop,  has  been  most 
successful  in  the  least  dignified  features  of  his  presentment, 
and  in  giving  to  the  higher  forms,  characters,  and  meanings 
a circumstantial  art-language  from  which  we  recoil  with  loath- 
ing  and  disgust.  There  are  many  to  whom  his  work  will 
seem  a pictorial  blasphemy.  Great  imaginative  talents  have 
here  been  perverted  to  the  use  of  an  eccentricity  both  lament- 
able and  revolting.” 

Another  critic,  bent  on  displaying  his  wit  at  the  expense  of 
the  artist,  said  : “ Mr.  Millais’  picture  looks  as  if  it  had  passed 
through  a mangle.”  And  even  Charles  Dickens,  who  in 
later  years  was  a firm  friend  of  Millais  and  a great  admirer 
of  his  works,  denounced  the  picture  in  a leading  article  in 
Household  IVoj'ds  as  “mean,  odious,  revolting,  and  repulsive.” 

But  perhaps  the  most  unreasonable  notice  of  all  was  the 
following,  which  appeared  in  the  Times:  “Mr.  Millais’ 
principal  picture  is,  to  speak  plainly,  revolting.  The  attempt 
to  associate  the  holy  family  with  the  meanest  details  of  a 
carpenter’s  shop,  with  no  conceivable  omission  of  misery,  of 
dirt,  of  even  disease,  all  finished  with  the  same  loathsome 
minuteness,  is  disgusting;  and  with  a surprising  power  of 


76  JOHN  EVERETT  MILLAIS  [.s49 

imitation,  this  picture  serves  to  show  how  far  mere  imitation 
may  fall  short,  by  dryness  and  conceit,  of  all  dignity  and 
truth.” 

From  these  extracts  it  is  easy  to  see  what  criticism  was 
a generation  ago.  As  Mr.  Walter  Armstrong  says,  “ Not 
the  faintest  attempt  is  made  to  divine  the  artist’s  standpoint, 
and  to  look  at  the  theme  from  his  side.  The  writer  does 
not  accept  the  Pre-Raphaelite  idea  even  provisionally,  and 
as  a means  of  testing  the  efficiency  of  the  work  it  leads  to. 
He  merely  lays  down  its  creations  upon  his  own  procrustean 
bed,  and  condemns  them  en  bloc  because  they  cannot  be 
made  to  fit.  And  this  article  in  the  Times  is  a fair  example 


ORIGINAL  DESIGN  FOR  “CHRIST  IN  THE  HOUSE  OF  HIS  PARENTS” 
(Four  figures  only) 


of  the  general  welcome  the  picture  met  with.  . . . Such 
criticism  is  mere  scolding.  When  an  artist  of  ability  denies 
and  contemns  your  canvas,  to  call  him  names  is  to  confess 
their  futility.” 

In  an  interesting  note  on  this  picture  Mr.  Edward  Benest 
(Millais’  cousin)  says,  “ During  the  three  years  I was  working 
in  London  I was  a frequent  visitor  to  the  Gower  Street 
house.  . . . From  the  intellectual  point  of  view  this  picture 
may  be  said  to  be  the  outcome  of  the  combined  brains  of  the 
Millais  family.  Every  little  portion  of  the  whole  canvas  was 
discussed,  considered,  and  settled  upon  by  the  father,  mother, 
and  Johnnie  (the  artist)  before  a touch  was  placed  on  the 
canvas,  although  sketches  had  been  made.  Of  course, 
coming  frequently,  I used  to  criticise  too  ; and  if  I suggested 


MILLAIS  AT  WORK 


77 


1S49] 

any  alteration,  Johnnie  used  to  say  in  his  determined  way, 
‘ No,  Ned ; that  has  been  all  settled  by  us,  and  1 shan't 
alter  it.- 

“ Everything  in  that  house  was  characteristic  of  the  great 
devotion  of  all  to  the  young  artist ; and  yet  he  was  in  no 
way  spoilt.  Whilst  he  was  at  work  his  father  and  mother 
sat  beside  him  most  of  the  time,  the  mother  constantly 
reading  to  him  on  every  imaginable  subject  that  interested 


SKETCH  FOR  “CHRIST  IN  THE  HOUSE  OF  HIS  PARENTS” 

the  boy,  or  stopping  to  discuss  matters  with  him.  The  boy 
himself,  whilst  working  joined  freely  and  cleverly  in  any 
conversation  that  was  going  on  ; and  once  when  I asked 
him  how  he  could  possibly  paint  and  talk  at  the  same  time, 
and  throw  such  energy  into  both,  he  said,  tapping  his 
forehead,  ‘ Oh,  that  s all  right.  I have  painted  every  touch 
in  my  head,  as  it  were,  long  ago,  and  have  now  only  to 
transfer  it  to  canvas.’  The  father  — a perfect  optimist  — 
when  unable  to  help  in  any  other  way,  would  occupy 


78  JOHN  EVERETT  MILLAIS  [is49 

himself  by  pointing  all  Johnnie’s  pencils  or  playing  whole 
operas  on  the  flute.  This  instrument  he  played  almost  as 
well  as  any  professional. 

“ The  principal  point  of  discussion  with  regard  to  the 
‘Carpenter’s  Shop’  related  to  the  head  of  the  Virgin  Mary. 
At  first,  as  his  sketches  show,  she  was  represented"  as  being 
kissed  by  the  child  Christ ; but  this  idea  was  presently 
altered  to  the  present  position  of  the  figures,  and  the  mother 
is  now  shown  embracing  her  Son.  These  two  figures  were 
constantly  painted  and  repainted  in  various  attitudes,  and 
finished  only  a short  time  before  the  picture  was  exhibited. 
The  figure,  too,  of  St.  John  carrying  a bowl  of  water  was 
inserted  at  the  last  moment.” 

The  picture,  when  finished  (not  before),  was  sold  for  ^150 
to  a dealer  named  Farrer,  whose  confidence  in  the  young 
artist  was  amusingly  displayed  by  pasting  on  the  back  of 
it  all  the  adverse  criticisms  that  appeared. 

The  models  for  this  picture  were  as  follows:  the  Virgin 
Mary,  Mrs.  Henry  Hodgkinson,  the  Christ,  Noel  Hum- 
phreys (son  of  an  architect),  John  the  Baptist,  Edwin  Everett, 
(an  adopted  child  of  the  Mr.  Everett  who  married  Millais’ 
aunt),  and  the  apprentice  H.  St.  Ledger.  In  painting  it, 
Millais  was  so  determined  to  be  accurate  in  every  detail, 
that  he  used  to  take  the  canvas  down  to  a carpenter’s  shop 
and  paint  the  interior  direct  from  what  he  saw  there.  The 
figure  of  Joseph  he  took  from  the  carpenter  himself,  saying 
that  it  was  “the  only  way  to  get  the  development  of  the 
muscles  right  ” ; but  the  head  was  painted  from  Millais’ 
father.  His  great  difficulty  was  with  the  sheep,  for  there 
were  no  flocks  within  miles  of  Gower  Street.  At  last,  only 
a few  days  before  the  picture  had  to  be  sent  in  to  the  Royal 
Academy,  he  went  to  a neighbouring  butcher’s,  where  he 
bought  two  sheep’s  heads  with  the  wool  on,  and  from  these 
he  painted  the  flock. 

There  is  a good  story  about  these  Pre-Raphaelite  days 
that  I am  tempted  to  introduce  here  in  contrast  with  the 
graver  portion  of  this  chapter.  Gold-digging  is  hardly  an 
adventure  in  which  I should  have  expected  my  father  to 
engage  ; but  the  papers,  of  course,  must  be  right,  and  in 
18S6  one  of  them  (an  Edinburgh  evening  journal)  announced 
that  at  a certain  period  in  the  fifties  Millais  was  travelling 
in  Australia  in  company  with  Woolner,  the  sculptor,  and  the 
present  Prime  Minister  of  England,  and  for  some  time 


“CHRIST  IN  THE  HOUSE  OF  HIS  PARENTS.”  1849 


THE  BRICKLAYERS’  OPINION 


8 1 


1849] 

worked  with  his  own  hands  in  the  Bendigo  gold-diggings. 
None  of  us  at  home  had  even  heard  of  this  before;  but 
there  it  was  in  print,  and  presently  every  tit-bitty  paper  in 
the  country  repeated  the  tale  with  all  the  rhetorical  adorn- 
ment at  the  command  of  the  writer.  “ The  frenzied  energy 
of  gold-seekers”  was  one  of  the  phrases  that  specially 
pleased  us,  and  we  never  failed  to  throw  it  at  my  father’s 
head  whenever  he  was  in  a bit  of  a hurry. 

And  still  the  tale  goes  on.  Quite  recently  the  familiar 
old  story  appeared  again  in  an  Australian  paper,  the  writer 
observing  that  no  biography  of  the  deceased  artist  would 
be  complete  without  an  account  of  his  experiences  in  the 
southern  goldfields.  It  seems  a pity  to  prick  this  pretty 
bubble ; but  as  a matter  of  fact  my  father  was  never  in 
the  goldfields,  and  through  the  fifties  he  was  hard  at  work 
at  home.  It  was  Woolner  alone  who  went  in  search  of  the 
elusive  nugget,  but  presently  returned  to  his  art  work  in 
England,  richer  rather  in  experience  than  in  solid  gold. 

Qf  one  of  the  evening  meetings  in  Woolner’s  absence 
Mr.  Arthur  Hughes  obliges  me  with  the  following  note:  — 
“While  Woolner  was  in  Australia  his  Pre-Raphaelite 
Brothers  agreed  to  draw  one  another  and  send  the  draw- 
ings  out  to  him  ; and  one  day,  when  two  or  three  of  them 
were  about  this  at  Millais’  house,  Alexander  Munro,  the 
sculptor,  chanced  to  call.  Millais,  having  finished  his  Pre- 
Raphaelite  Brotherhood  subject,  got  Munro  to  sit,  and  drew 
him,  and  afterwards  accompanied  him  to  the  door  with 
the  drawing  in  his  hand,  to  which  Munro  was  making  some 
critical  objection  that  Millais  did  not  agree  with.  There 
happened  to  be  passing  at  the  time  a couple  of  rough  brick- 
layers, fresh  from  their  work  — short  pipes  and  all.  To 
them  Millais  suddenly  reached  out  from  the  doorstep  and 
seized  one,  to  his  great  surprise,  and  there  and  then  con- 
stituted them  judges  to  decide  upon  the  merits  of  the 
likeness,  while  Munro,  rather  disconcerted,  had  to  stand 
in  the  street  with  his  hat  off  for  identification.  A most 
amusing  scene!’’ 

Mr.  F.  G.  Stephens  tells  us  something  further  about  these 
portraits  and  the  final  Pre-Raphaelite  Brotherhood  meetings. 
He  writes:  “It  was  i 11  the  Gower  Street  studio  that  in 

1853  the  variously  described  meeting  of  the  Pre-Raphaelite 
Brotherhood  then  in  London  occurred  in  order  that  the 
artists  present  might  send  as  souvenirs  to  Woolner,  then 
1 — 6 


82  JOHN  EVERETT  MILLAIS  [1849- 

in  Australia,  their  portraits,  each  drawn  by  another.  Millais- 
fell  to  me  to  be  drawn,  and  to  him  I fell  as  his  subject. 
Unhappily  for  me,  I was  so  ill  at  that  time  that  it  was  with 
the  greatest  difficulty  I could  drag  myself  to  Gower  Street; 
more  than  that,  it  was  but  the  day  before  the  entire  ruin 
of  my  family,  then  long  impending  and  long  struggled 
against  in  vain,  was  consummated.  I was  utterly  unable 
to  continue  the  sketch  I began.  I gave  it  up,  and  Mr. 
Holman  Hunt,  who  had  had  D.  G.  Rossetti  for  his  vis-a-vis 
and  sitter,  took  my  place  and  drew  Millais’  head.  The 
head  which  Millais  drew  of  me  is  now  in  my  possession, 
the  gift  of  Woolner,  to  whom  it  was,  with  the  others,  sent 
to  Sydney,  whence  he  brought  the  whole  of  the  portraits 
back  to  England.  My  portrait,  which  by  the  way  is  a 
good  deal  out  of  drawing,  attests  painfully  enough  the  state 
of  health  and  sore  trouble  in  which  I then  was.  This 
meeting  was  one  of  the  latest  “functions”  of  the  Pre- 
Raphaelite  Brotherhood  in  its  original  state.  Collinson  had 
seceded,  and  Woolner  emigrated  to  the  “diggings”  in 
search  of  the  gold  he  did  not  find.  Up  to  that  time  the 
old  affectionate  conditions  still  existed  among  the  Brothers, 
but  their  end  was  near.  Millais  was  shooting  on  ahead;  Mr. 
Holman  Hunt  was  surely,  though  slowly,  following  his  path 
towards  fortune  ; D.  G.  Rossetti  had  retired  within  himself, 
and  made  no  sign  before  the  world ; W.  M.  Rossetti  was 
rising  in  Her  Majesty’s  service;  and  I was  being  continuedly 
drawn  towards  that  literary  work  which  brought  me  breach 
None  of  the  six  had,  however,  departed  from  the  essentials 
of  the  Pre-Raphaelite  faith  which  was  in  him.” 

“Ferdinand  lured  by  Ariel,”  painted  in  1S49,  was  another 
important  picture  that  warred  with  the  prevailing  sentiment 
of  the  day,  its  high  finish  in  every  detail  and  the  distinctly 
original  treatment  of  the  subject  tending  only  to  kindle  anew 
the  animosity  of  the  critics  against  Millais  and  the  principles 
he  represented.  Even  the  dealer  for  whom  it  w?as  painted 
as  a commission  for  ^jioo  refused  to  take  it,  and  when, 
later  on,  it  was  exhibited  at  the  Academy  (now  the  National 
Gallery),  it  was  ignominiously  placed  low  down  in  a corner 
of  one  of  the  long  rooms. 

This  shameless  breach  of  contract  on  the  part  of  the 
dealer  was  a bitter  disappointment  to  the  young  artist, 
for  he  could  ill  afford  to  keep  his  pictures  long  in  hand. 
His  parents,  never  well  off,  had  given  up  everything  for 


1850] 


SALE  OF  “FERDINAND” 


83 

“Jack,”  and  determined  that  he  should  lack  for  nothing  that 
could  in  anywise  tend  to  his  advancement,  and  for  the  last 
four  years  — ever  since  he  was  sixteen  years  of  age  — he 
had  striven  hard  to  requite  their  kindness,  supplying,  as 
he  did  from  the  profits  of  his  work,  the  greater  part  of  the 
household  expenses  at  Gower  Street.  To  eke  out  his 
precarious  income  he  often  went  to  theatres,  where  he  could 
earn  small  sums  by  making  sketches  of  the  actors  and 
actresses ; but  as  he  seldom  got  more  than  a couple  of 
sovereigns  for  a finished  portrait,  this  loss  of  £100  was 
a matter  of  no  small  moment  to  his  family  as  well  as 
himself. 

But  now  another  chance  for  the  sale  of  “ Ferdinand  ” 
presented  itself.  Mr.  Frankum,  an  appreciative  friend, 
brought  to  the  studio  a stranger  who  admired  it  greatly, 
and  made  so  many  encouraging  remarks  that  Millais  felt 
sure  he  would  buy  it.  To  his  disappointment,  however, 
no  offer  was  made.  The  visitors  went  away,  and  he  dole- 
fully took  up  the  picture  to  put  it  back  in  its  accustomed 
place,  when,  to  his  joy  and  amazement,  he  found  underneath 
it  a cheque  for  ^150!  It  was  Mr.  Richard  Ellison,  of 
Sudbrook  Holme,  Lincolnshire,  a well-known  connoisseur, 
whom  Mr.  Frankum  had  brought  with  him,  and  he  had 
quietly  slipped  in  this  cheque  unperceived  by  the  artist. 
The  picture  has  since  been  successively  in  the  hands  of 
Mr.  Wyatt,  of  Oxford,  Mr.  Woollier,  r.  a.  (who  made  quite 
a little  fortune  by  buying  and  selling  the  Pre-Raphaelite 
pictures),  and  Mr.  A.  C.  Allen,  and  is  now  in  the  possession 
of  Mr.  Henry  Makins.  From  one  of  his  letters  to  Mr.  Wyatt 
(December,  1850)  it  seems  that  Millais  made  some  slight 
alterations  in,  or  additions  to,  the  work  after  it  had  been 
sold  to  Mr.  Ellison,  for  he  took  it  again  down  to  Oxford  and 
worked  once  more  upon  the  background,  leaving  it  to  dry 
the  while  in  the  possession  of  his  friend  Mr.  Wyatt. 

As  to  its  merits,  I need  only  quote  the  opinion  of  Mr. 
Stephens,  who  sat  for  “Ferdinand.”  In  a recent  notice  of 
the  work  he  says:  “ Although  the  face  is  a marvel  of  finish, 
and  unchangeable  in  its  technique,  it  was  begun  and  com- 
pleted in  one  sitting.  Having  made  a very  careful  drawing 
in  pencil  on  the  previous  day,  and  transferred  it  to  the 
picture,  Millais,  almost  without  stopping  to  exchange  a word 
with  h is  sitter,  worked  for  about  five  hours,  put  down  his 
brushes,  and  never  touched  the  face  again.  In  execution  it 

o 


84 


JOHN  EVERETT  MILLAIS 


[ i 849- 


M / 


is  exhaustive  and  faultless.  Six-and-thirty  years  have  not 
harmed  it.” 

In  a letter  to  me  Mr.  Stephens  gives  some  further  details 
about  the  picture  and  his  sitting  for  it.  He  says:  “My 
intimacy  with  Millais,  of  course,  took  a new  form  with  this 
brotherly  agreement  [of  the  Pre-Raphaelite  Brotherhood], 
and  it  was  probably  in  consequence  of  this  that  I sat  to  him 
for  the  head  of  the  Prince  in  the  little  picture  of  ‘ Ferdinand 

lured  by  Ariel,’  which, 
! being  painted  in  1849- 

50,  was  at  the  Academy 
in  1850,  and  is  the 
leading  example  of  Pre- 
Raphaelitism. 

“According  to  Millais, 
each  Brother  worked 
according  to  his  own 
lights  and  the  general 
views  of  the  Brother- 
hood at  that  time.  Such 
being  the  case,  I may 
describe  the  manner  of 
the  artist  in  this  par- 
ticular instance.  In  the 
summer  and  autumn  of 
1849  he  executed  the 
whole  of  that  wonderful 
background,  the  de- 
lightful figures  of  the 
elves  and  Ariel,  and  he 
sketched  in  the  Prince 
himself.  The  whole  was 
done  upon  a pure  white 
ground,  so  as  to  obtain 
the  greatest  brilliancy 
,850.  of  the  pigments.  Later 
on  my  turn  came,  and 
in  one  lengthy  sitting  Millais  drew  my  most  un-Ferdinand- 
like  features  with  a pencil  upon  white  paper,  making,  as 
it  was,  a most  exquisite  drawing  of  the  highest  finish  and 
exact  fidelity.  In  these  respects  nothing  could  surpass  this 
jewel  of  its  kind.  Something  like  it,  but  softer  and  not 
quite  so  sculpturesque,  exists  in  the  similar  study  Millais 


First  Sketch  for 

FERDINAND  LURED  BY  ARIEL.’ 


FERDINAND  LURED  BY  ARIEL.” 

By  permission  of  Mr.  Henry  Makins 


ts5o]  MR.  STEPHENS  AS  “FERDINAND”  87 


made  in  pencil  for  the  head  of  Ophelia,  which  I saw  not 
lone  aeo,  and  which  Sir  W.  Bowman  lent  to  the  Grosvenor 
Gallery  in  18S8. 

“ My  portrait  was  completely  modelled  in  all  respects 
of  form  and  light  and  shade,  so  as  to  be  a perfect  study 
for  the  head  thereafter  to  be  painted.  The  day  after  it 
was  executed  Millais  repeated  the  study  in  a less  finished 
manner  upon  the  panel,  and  on  the  day  following  that  I 
went  again  to  the  studio  in  Gower  Street,  where  ‘ Isabella’ 
and  similar  pictures  were  painted.  From  ten  o’clock  to 
nearly  five  the  sitting  continued  without  a stop,  and  with 
scarcely  a word  between  the  painter  and  his  model.  The 
clicking  of  his  brushes  when  they  were  shifted  in  his  palette, 
the  sliding  of  his  foot  upon  the  easel,  and  an  occasional  sigh 
marked  the  hours,  while,  strained  to  the  utmost,  Millais 
worked  this  extraordinary  fine  face.  At  last  he  said,  ‘ There, 
old  fellow,  it  is  done!’  Thus  it  remains  as  perfectly  pure 
and  as  brilliant  as  then  — fifty  years  ago  — and  it  now  remains 
unchanged.  For  me,  still  leaning  on  a stick  and  in  the 
required  posture,  I had  become  quite  unable  to  move,  rise 
upright,  or  stir  a limb  till,  much  as  if  I were  a stiffened  lay- 
figure,  Millais  lifted  me  up  and  carried  me  bodily  to  the 
dining-room,  where  some  dinner  and  wine  put  me  on  my 
feet  again.  Later  the  till  then  unpainted  parts  of  the  figure 
of  Ferdinand  were  added  from  the  model  and  a lay-figure. 

“ It  was  in  the  Gower  Street  studio  that  Millais  was  wont, 
when  time  did  not  allow  of  outdoor  exercises,  to  perform 
surprising  feats  of  agility  and  strength.  He  had,  since  we 
first  met  at  Trafalgar  Square,  so  greatly  developed  in  tallness, 
bulk,  and  manliness  that  no  one  was  surprised  at  his  progress 
in  these  respects.  He  was  great  in  leaping,  and  I well  re- 
member how  in  the  studio  he  was  wont  to  clear  my  arm 
outstretched  from  the  shoulder  — that  is,  about  five  feet  from 
the  ground  — at  one  spring.  The  studio  measures  nineteen 
feet  six  inches  by  twenty  feet,  thus  giving  him  not  more  than 
fourteen  feet  run.  Many  similar  feats  attested  the  strength 
and  energy  of  the  artist.” 

And  now  I must  introduce  two  old  friends  of  my  father, 
whose  kindness  and  generosity  to  him  in  his  younger  days 
made  a deep  and  lasting  impression  upon  his  life.  In  1848, 
when  he  first  became  acquainted  with  them,  Mr.  Thomas 
Combe  was  the  Superintendent  of  the  Clarendon  Press  at 
Oxford  — a man  of  the  most  cultivated  tastes,  and  highly 


88  JOHN  EVERETT  MILLAIS  [1849- 

respected  and  beloved  by  every  member  of  the  University 
with  whom  he  came  into  contact  — and  his  wife  was  a very 
counterpart  of  himself.  Millais  was  staying  at  Oxford  at 
the  time,  engaged  in  painting  the  picture  of  Mr.  Wyatt  and 
his  granddaughter  referred  to  in  an  earlier  portion  of  this 
chapter,  and  the  Combes,  who  were  among  the  first  to 
recognise  and  encourage  the  efforts  of  the  Pre-Raphaelite 
School,  took  him  under  their  wing,  treating  him  with  almost 
parental  consideration.  In  1849  he  returned  to  Oxford,  and 
stayed  with  them  while  painting  Mr.  Combe’s  portrait,  and 
from  that  time  they  became  familiar  friends,  to  whom  it  was 
always  a pleasure  to  write. 

The  following  letters,  kindly  placed  at  my  disposal  by 
Mrs.  Combe,  serve  to  illustrate  his  life  at  this  period. 
Mr.  Combe,  it  must  be  understood,  Millais  commonly 
referred  to  as  “ The  Early  Christian  ” ; Mrs.  Combe  he 
addressed  as  “Mrs.  Pat.” 

To  Mrs.  Combe. 

“17  Hanover  Terrace,  Regent’s  Park. 

“ November  1850. 

“ My  dear  Mrs.  Pat,  — Our  departure  was  so  velocitous 
that  I had  no  time  or  spirits  to  express  my  thanks  to  you 
before  leaving  for  your  immense  kindness  and  endurance 
of  all  whimsicalities  attached  to  my  nature.  I scribble 
this  at  Collins’  house,  being  totally  incapable  of  remaining 
at  my  own  residence  after  the  night’s  rest  and  morning’s 
‘heavy  blow’  of  breakfast.  The  Clarendonian  visit,  the 
Bottleyonian  privations,  and  Oxonian  martyrdoms  have 
wrought  in  11s  (Collins  and  myself)  such  a similar  feeling 
that  it  is  quite  impracticable  to  separate.  I had  to  go 
through  the  exceedingly  difficult  task  of  performing  the 
dramatic  traveller’s  return  to  his  home  — embracing  fero- 
ciously and  otherwise  exulting  in  the  restoration  to  the 
bosom  of  my  family.  I say  I had  to  ‘ perform  ’ this  part, 
because  the  detestation  I hold  London  in  surpasses  all 
expression,  and  prevents  the  possibility  of  my  being  pleased 
to  return  to  anybody  at  such  a place.  Mind,  I am  not 
abusing  the  society,  but  the  filth  of  the  metropolis. 

“Now  for  a catalogue  of  words  to  express  my  thanks 
to  you  and  Mr.  Combe.  I have  not  got  Johnson’s  dictionary 


1850] 


CORRESPONDENCE 


89 

near  me,  so  I am  at  a loss.  Your  kindness  has  defeated  the 
possibility  of  ever  adequately  thanking  you,  so  I will  con- 
clude with  rendering  my  mother’s  grateful  acknowledgments. 

“ Remember  me  to  all  my  friends,  and  believe  me, 

“ Yours  most  sincerely, 

“John  E.  Millais.” 

Note. — The  “ Bottleyonian  privations  ” refer  to  the  hard 
fare  on  which  Millais  and  Charles  Collins  subsisted  at  the 
cottage  of  Mrs.  King,  at  Botley,  whilst  the  former  was 
painting  “ The  Woodman’s  Daughter.”  Mrs.  Combe’s 
motherly  kindness  to  the  two  young  artists  is  thus  referred 
to  by  Dr.  Birkbeck  Hill  in  his  book  on  the  Rossetti  letters  : — 
“ I have  heard  Mrs.  Combe  relate  a story  how  Millais  and 
Collins,  when  very  young  men,  once  lodged  in  a cottage 
nearly  opposite  the  entrance  of  Lord  Abingdon’s  park  close 
to  Oxford.  She  learnt  from  them  that  they  got  but  poor 
fare,  so  soon  afterwards  she  drove  over  in  her  carriage,  and 
left  for  them  a large  meat-pie.  Millais,  she  added,  one  day 
said  to  Mr.  Combe,  ‘ People  had  better  buy  my  pictures 
now,  when  I am  working  for  fame,  than  a few  years  later, 
when  I shall  be  married  and  working  for  a wife  and  children.’ 
It  was  in  these  later  years  that  old  Linnell  exclaimed  to  him. 

‘ Ah,  Mr.  Millais,  you  have  left  your  first  love,  you  have  left 
your  first  love  ! ’ ” 


To  the  same. 

“83  Gower  Street,  Bedford  Square, 

“ December  2nd,  1850. 

“ My  dear  Mrs.  Pat, — First  I thank  you  most  intensely 
for  the  Church  Service.  The  night  of  its  arrival  I read 
the  marriage  ceremony  for  the  first  time  in  my  life,  and 
shall  look  upon  every  espoused  man  with  awe. 

“ I am  delighted  to  hear  that  you  are  likely  to  visit 
Mrs.  Collins  during  the  1851  Exhibition,  as  you  will  meet 
with  a most  welcome  reception  from  that  lady,  who  is  all 
lovingkindness. 

“My  parents  are  likely  to  be  out  of  town  at  that  time. 
My  mother,  not  having  left  London  for  some  years,  prefers 
visiting  friends  in  Jersey  and  in  familiar  localities  in  France 
to  remaining  in  the  metropolis  during  the  tumult  and  excite- 


9° 


[1850 


JOHN  EVERETT  MILLAIS 

ment  of  1851.  I hope,  however,  on  another  occasion  you 
will  have  the  opportunity  of  knowing  them,  in  case  they 
should  be  gone  before  you  are  here. 

“Every  Sunday  since  I left  Oxford  Collins  and  I have 
spent  together,  attending  Wells  Street  Church.  I think  you 
will  admit  (when  in  town)  that  the  service  there  is  better 
performed  than  any  other  you  have  ever  attended.  We 
met  there  yesterday  morning  a University  man  of  our 
acquaintance  who  admitted  its  superiority  over  Oxford  or 
Cambridge.  I am  ashamed  to  say  that  late  hours  at  night 
and  ditto  in  the  morning  are  creeping  again  on  us.  Now 
and  then  I make  a desperate  resolution  to  plunge  out  of 
bed  when  called,  which  ends  in  passively  lying  down  again. 
A late  breakfast  (I  won’t  mention  the  hour)  and  my  lay- 
figure  [artist’s  dummy]  stares  at  me  in  reproving  astonish- 
ment as  I enter  my  study.  During  all  this  time  I am  so 
powerlessly  cold  that  I am  like  a moving  automaton.  The 
first  impulse  is  to  sit  by  my  stove,  which  emits  a delicious, 
genial,  unwholesome,  feverish  heat,  and  the  natural  course 
of  things  brings  on  total  incapacity  to  work  and  absolute 
laziness.  In  spite  of  this  I manage  to  paint  three  hairs  on 
the  woodman’s  little  girl’s  head  or  two  freckles  on  her  face; 
and  so  lags  the  day  till  dark,  by  which  time  the  room  is 
so  hot,  and  the  glue  in  the  furniture  therein  so  softened  by 
the  warmth,  that  the  chairs  and  tables  are  in  peril  of  falling 
to  pieces  before  my  face.  . . . But  I,  like  the  rest  of  the 
furniture,  am  in  too  delicate  a state  to  be  moved  when  the 
call  for  dinner  awakens  the  last  effort  but  one  in  removing 
my  body  to  the  table,  where  the  last  effort  of  all  is  required 
to  eat. 

“ This  revives  just  strength  enough  to  walk  to  Hanover 
Terrace  in  a night  so  cold  that  horses  should  wear  great- 
coats.  Upon  arriving  there  I embrace  Collins,  and  vice 
versa;  Mrs.  Collins  makes  the  tea,  and  we  drink  it;  we 
then  adjourn  upstairs  to  his  room  and  converse  till  about 
twelve,  when  we  say  good-night,  and  again  poor  wretched 
‘ Malay  ’ [he  was  always  called  ‘ Mr.  Malay  ’ wherever  he 
went]  risks  his  life  in  the  London  Polar  voyage,  meeting  no 
human  beings  but  metropolitan  policemen,  to  whom  he  has 
an  obscure  intention  of  giving  a feast  of  tea  and  thicker 
bread  and  butter  than  that  given  by  Mr.  Hales,  of  Oxford, 
in  acknowledgment  of  his  high  esteem  of  their  services.  At 
one  o’clock  in  the  morning  it  is  too  severely  cold  for  anything 


1850] 


CORRESPONDENCE 


9 1 


to  be  out  but  a lamp-post,  and  I am  one  of  that  body.  [An 
occult  reference  to  his  slimness.] 

“ Respecting  my  promised  visit  at  Christmas,  if  nothing 
happens  to  prevent  me  I shall  certainly  be  with  you  then. 
Shall  probably  come  the  night  before,  and  leave  the  night  after. 

“ I have  entirely  settled  my  composition  of  ‘ The  Flood,’ 
and  shall  commence  it  this  week.  I have  also  commenced 
the  child's  head  in  the  wood  scene. 

“ I have,  as  usual,  plenty  of  invitations  out,  all  of  which  I 
have  declined,  caring  no  more  for  such  amusements.  It  is 
useless  to  tell  you  that  I am  miserable,  as  this  letter  gives 
you  my  everyday  life. 

“ Remember  me  to  Mr.  Combe  most  sincerely,  and  to  all 
about  you,  and  believe  me  to  remain, 

“ Ever  your  affectionate  friend, 

“John  Everett  Millais.” 

In  these  days  he  frequently  referred  to  and  made  fun  of 
his  extreme  slimness,  as  to  which  William  Millais  writes : 
“ My  brother,  up  to  the  age  of  twenty-four,  was  very  slight 
in  figure,  and  his  height  of  six  feet  tended  to  exaggerate  the 
tenuity  of  his  appearance.  He  took  pleasure  in  weighing 
himself,  and  was  delighted  with  any  increase  of  weight.  I 
remember  when  he  went  to  Winchelsea  in  1854  to  paint  the 
background  for  the  ‘ Blind  Girl,  ’ whilst  waiting  for  a fly  at 
the  railway  station  we  were  weighed.  I just  turned  twelve 
stone,  and  when  my  brother  went  into  the  scales  the  porter 
was  quite  dumbfounderecl  when  three  stone  had  to  be  ab- 
stracted before  the  proper  balance  was  arrived  at.  ‘ Ah  ! you 
may  well  look,  my  man,’ said  my  brother;  ‘ I ought  to  be 
going  about  in  a menagerie  as  a specimen  of  a living  paper- 
knife.’  We  all  know  how  that  state  of  things  was  altered  in 
after  years;  he  might  have  gone  back  to  his  menagerie  as  a 
specimen  of  fine  manly  vigour  and  physique.” 


To  Mr.  Combe. 

“ 83  Gower  Street,  Bedford  Square, 

“ December  16th,  1850. 

“ Dear  Early  Christian,  — I was  extremely  surprised  and 
delighted  at  your  letter.  The  kind  wish  therein  that  I might 
stay  a little  while  at  Christmas  I am  afraid  can  never  be 


92  JOHN  EVERETT  MILLAIS  [isSo 

realised,  as  I can  only  come  and  go  for  that  day.  My  family, 
as  you  may  imagine,  were  a little  astonished  on  hearing  my 
intention  to  leave  them  at  that  time.  They  are,  however, 
reconciled  now,  and  I shall  (all  things  permitting)  be  with 
you.  I have  settled  down  to  London  life  again  for  the 
present,  and  the  quiet,  pleasant  time  at  Oxford  seems  like  a 


PENCIL  DESIGN  FOR  “THE  WOODMAN’S  DAUGHTER.’’  1848 

dream.  I wish  the  thought  of  it  would  take  that  form 
instead  of  keeping  me  awake  almost  every  night  up  to  three 
and  four  o’clock  in  the  morning  at  which  time  the  most 
depressing  of  all  circumstances  happens  — the  performance  of 
‘the  Waits.’  To  hear  a bad  band  play  bad  music  in  an 
empty  street  at  night  is  the  greatest  trial  I know.  I should 
not  like  to  visit  Dr.  Leigh's  asylum  as  a patient,  so  shall 


CORRESPONDENCE 


1850] 


93 


endeavour  to  forget  all  bygone  enjoyments,  together  with 
present  and  future  miseries  that  keep  me  from  sleep. 

“You  will  perhaps  wonder  what  these  ailments  can  be. 
I will  enumerate  them.  First,  a certainty  of  passing  an 
unusually  turbulent  life  (which  I do  not  like);  secondly,  the 
inevitable  enemies  I shall  create  if  fully  successful ; thirdly, 
the  knowledge  of  the  immense  application  required  to  com- 
plete my  works  for  the  coming  exhibition,  which  I feel  inade- 
quate to  perform,  I think  I shall  adopt  the  motto  ‘ In  ccelo 
quies,’  and  go  over  to  Cardinal  Wiseman,  as  all  the  metro- 
politan High  Church  clergymen  are  sending  in  their  resigna- 
tions. To-morrow  (Sunday)  Collins  and  myself  are  going  to 
dine  with  a University  man  whose  brother  has  just  seceded, 
and  afterwards  to  hear  the  Cardinal’s  second  discourse.  My 
brother  went  last  Sunday,  but  could  not  hear  a word,  as  it 
was  so  crowded  he  could  not  get  near  enough.  The  Cardinal 
preaches  in  his  mitre  and  full  vestments,  so  there  will  be  a 
great  display  of  pomp  as  well  as  knowledge 

“ And  now,  my  dear  Mr.  Combe,  I must  end  this  ‘ heavy 
blow  ’ letter  with  most  affectionate  remembrances  and  earnest 
assurances  to  Mrs.  Pat  that  I do  not  mean  to  turn  Roman 
Catholic  just  yet.  Also  remember  me  kindly  to  the  Vicar, 
“ And  believe  me  to  remain, 

“Yours  most  affectionately, 

“John  Everett  Malay.” 

After  his  Christmas  visit  he  wrote 


To  Mrs.  Combe. 

“ 83  Gower  Street,  Bedford  Square, 
“December  30 th,  1S50. 

“ My  dear  Mrs.  Combe,  — The  last  return  was  more 
hurried  than  the  first.  I found  my  portmanteau,  when  at 
the  station,  unstrapped  and  undirected.  We,  however,  got 
over  those  difficulties,  and  arrived  safely.  I recollect  now 
that  we  did  not  say  a farewell  word  to  Mr.  Hackman  ; also 
forgot  to  ask  you  and  Mr.  Combe  to  give  a small  portion  of 
your  hair  for  the  rings,  there  being  a place  for  that  purpose. 
Pray  send  some  for  both. 

“ It  is  needless  to  say  our  relatives  are  somewhat  surprised 
at  your  kind  presents.  They  are  universally  admired.  I am 


94  JOHN  EVERETT  MILLAIS  [is5i 

deep  in  the  mystery  of  purchasing  velvets  and  silk  draperies 
for  my  pictures  [‘  Mariana  ’ and  ‘ The  Woodman’s  Daughter  ’] . 
The  shopman  simpers  with  astonishment  at  the  request 
coming  from  a male  biped.  I begin  to  long  for  these  toil- 
some three  months  to  pass  over;  I am  sure,  except  on 
Sundays,  never  to  go  out  in  the  daylight  again  for  that 
time. 

“ I have  seen  Charley  Collins  every  night  since,  and 
see  him  again  to-night.  We  go  to  a dancing  party  to- 
morrow ; at  least  it  is  his  desire,  not  mine.  The  days  draw 
in  so  early  now  that  it  is  insanity  to  stay  up  late  at  night,  and 
get  up  at  eleven  or  twelve  the  next  morning.  I wish  you 
were  here  to  read  to  me.  None  of  my  family  will  do  that. 
[In  those  days  he  liked  being  read  to  whilst  at  his  work,  his 
mother  having  done  so  for  years.] 

“ Get  the  Early  Christian,  in  his  idle  moments,  to  design 
the  monastery  and  draw  up  the  rules  . . . and  believe  me 
always 

“ Your  affectionate  friend, 

“John  Everett  Millais.” 


To  the  same. 


“ 83  Gower  Street, 

“ January  15  th,  1851. 

“My  dear  Mrs.  Pat, — I have  been  so  much  engaged 
since  I received  your  letter  that  I had  no  time  to  write  to 
you.  ...  I saw  Carlo  last  night,  who  has  been  very  lucky 
in  pursuading  a very  beautiful  young  lady  to  sit  for  the  head 
of  ‘ The  Nun.’  She  was  at  his  house  when  I called,  and 
I also  endeavoured  to  obtain  a sitting,  but  was  unfortunate, 
as  she  leaves  London  next  Saturday. 

“ I have  progressed  a little  with  both  my  pictures,  and 
completed  a very  small  picture  of  a bridesmaid  who  is  passing 
the  wedding-cake  through  the  ring  nine  times.*  I have  not 
yet  commenced  ‘The  Flood,’  but  shall  do  so  this  week  for 
certain. 

“ Believe  me,  wishing  a happy  new  year  to  both  of  you, 

“ Yours  most  affectionately, 

“John  Everett  Millais.” 


* “The  Bridesmaid,”  now  in  the  Fitzwilliam  Museum,  Cambridge. 


DESIGN  FOR  “THE  DELUGE.”  Circ.  1850 


CORRESPONDENCE 


97 


1851] 

The  following  letter  is  characteristic  as  showing  Millais’ 
careful  regard  to  details.  The  materials  asked  for  were  for 

O 

use  in  painting  “ The  Woodman’s  Daughter.' 


To  Mr.  Combe. 

“83  Gower  Street, 

“ January  2 Sih,  1851. 

“My  dear  Mr.  Combe,  — You  have  doubtless  wondered 
at  not  hearing  from  me,  but  want  of  subject  must  be  my 
excuse. 

“ I have  got  a little  commission  for  you  to  execute  for  me. 
You  recollect  the  lodge  at  the  entrance  of  Lord  Abingdon’s 
house,  where  I used  to  leave  my  picture  of  the  Wood 
[‘  The  Woodman’s  Daughter  ’].  Well,  in  the  first  cottage 
there  is  a little  girl  named  Esther ; would  you  ask  the 
mother  to  let  you  have  a pair  of  her  old  walking-boots  ? 
I require  them  sent  on  to  me,  as  I wish  to  paint  them  in  the 
wood.  I do  not  care  how  old  they  are ; they  are,  of  course, 
no  use  without  having  been  worn.  Will  you  please  supply 
the  child  with  money  to  purchase  a new  pair?  I shall  settle 
with  you  when  I see  you  in  the  spring.  If  you  should  see 
a country-child  with  a bright  lilac  pinafore  on,  lay  strong 
hands  on  the  same,  and  send  it  with  the  boots.  It  must  be 
long,  that  is,  covering  the  whole  underdress  from  the  neck. 
I do  not  wish  it  new,  but  clean,  with  some  little  pattern  — 
pink  spots,  or  anything  of  that  kind.  If  you  have  not  time 
for  this  task,  do  not  scruple  to  tell  me  so. 

“ 4 The  Flood  ’ subject  I have  given  up  for  this  year,  and 
have  substituted  a smaller  composition  a little  larger  than 
the  Wood.  1 he  subject  is  quite  new  and,  I think, 
fortunate ; it  is  the  dove  returning  to  the  Ark  with  the 
olive-branch.  I shall  have  three  figures  — Noah  praying, 
with  the  olive-branch  in  his  hand,  and  the  dove  in  the 
breast  of  a young  girl  who  is  looking  at  Noah.  The  other 
figure  will  be  kissing  the  bird’s  breast.  The  background 
will  be  very  novel,  as  I shall  paint  several  birds  and  animals 
one  of  which  now  forms  the  prey  to  the  other. 

u E is  quite  impossible  to  explain  one’s  intentions  in  a 
letter;  so  do  not  raise  objections  in  your  mind  till  you  see  it 
1 — 7 


98  JOHN  EVERETT  MILLAIS  [,8si 

finished.  I have  a horrible  influenza,  which,  however,  has 
not  deterred  me  from  the  usual  ‘ heavy  blow  ’ walks  with 
Fra  Carlo.  ...  I thought  I had  forgotten  something — the 
shields  — which  you  most  kindly  offered  to  do  for  me.  I was 
not  joking  when  I hinted  to  you  that  I should  like  to  have 
them.  If  you  are  in  earnest  1 shall  be  only  too  glad  to  hang 
them  round  my  room,  for  I like  them  so  much  better  than 
any  paper,  that  when  I have  a house  of  my  own  you  shall 
see  every  room  decorated  in  that  way.  . . . 

“ Yours  devotedly, 

“John  Everett  Millais.” 


“The  Flood’’  subject  (a  subject  altogether  different  from 
that  of  another  picture  called  “ A Flood,”  painted  by  the 
artist  in  1870)  was  never  completed  as  an  oil  picture, 
although  he  made  a finished  drawing  of  it,  which  is  now 
in  my  possession,  having  been  given  to  me  by  my  mother. 

As  will  be  seen  from  his  letter  to  Mr.  Combe,  “ The 
Return  of  the  Dove  to  the  Ark  ” (otherwise  known  as  “ The 
Daughters  of  Noah,”  or  “ The  Wives  of  the  Sons  of  Noah  ”) 
had  the  first  place  in  his  mind,  and  eventually  he  painted 
it  at  the  house  in  Gower  Street.  It  represents  two  girls 
(supposed  to  be  inmates  of  the  Ark)  clad  in  simple  garments 
of  green  and  white,  and  caressing  the  dove.  The  picture 
was  shown  in  the  Academy  of  1851,  along  with  “ The  Wood- 
man’s Daughter  ” and  “ Mariana,”  and  was  next  exhibited 
in  Paris  in  1855  with  “ The  Order  of  Release”  and  “Ophelia,” 
when,  says  Mr.  Stephens,  “ the  three  works  attracted  much 
attention  and  sharp  discussion,  which  greatly  extended 
Millais’  reputation.”  It  was  again  shown  in  the  Interna- 
tional Exhibition  of  1S62,  as  were  also  “ Apple  Blossoms,” 
“ The  Order  of  Release,”  and  “ The  Vale  of  Rest  ’ ; and  by 
Mr.  Combe’s  will  it  has  now  become  the  property  of  the 
University  of  Oxford. 

On  this  subject  my  uncle,  William  Millais,  writes : “ I he 
unbiased  critic  must  be  constrained  to  admit  that  if  there 
is  one  thing  to  criticise  in  the  paintings  in  these  days  of  his 
glorious  youth,  it  is  the  inelegance  of  one  or  two  of  the 
figures.  The  girls  in  ‘ The  Return  of  the  Dove  ’ and 
‘ Mariana  ’ are  the  two  most  noticeable  examples,  and  I have 
heard  the  artist  admit  as  much  himself.  The  head  of  the 
little  girl  in  ‘The  Woodman’s  Daughter,’  which  was  altered 


CORRESPONDENCE 


99 


is5r] 

after  many  years  much  for  the  worse,  was  in  its  original  state 
distinctly  charming,  although  rustic.  It  was  only  at  the 
instance  of  the  owner,  his  half-brother  Henry  Hodgkinson, 
that  he  at  last  consented  to  repaint  (and  spoil)  to  a con- 
siderable extent  the  whole  picture  for  a slight  inaccuracy 
in  the  drawing  of  one  head  and  the  arm  and  boots  of  the  girl. 
It  was  a very  great  misfortune,  for  the  work  of  the  two 
periods  has  not  ‘ blended  ’ as  they  have  done  so  successfully 
in  ‘ Sir  Isumbras.’  ” 

Millais’  life  in  1851,  his  hopes  and  ambitions,  the  pictures 
he  painted,  what  was  said  of  them  and  what  became  of  them, 
are  perhaps  best  related  by  himself  in  the  following  letters:  — 


To  Mrs.  Combe. 

“ 83  Gower  Street,  Bedford  Square, 

“ February  \oth,  1851. 

“ My  dear  Mrs.  Pat,  — The  brevity  with  which  my 
troublesome  request  was  executed  astonished  me,  and  I 
return  you  all  the  thanks  due  to  so  kind  an  attention.  The 
pinafore  will  do  beautifully,  as  also  the  boots.  I he  ‘ Lyra 
Innocentium’  I brought  from  Oxford  at  Christmas-time. 
I have  given  Collins  the  one  directed  for  him.  To-night 
I commence  for  the  first  time  this  year  evening  work  which 
lasts  till  twelve,  and  which  will  continue  for  the  next  few 
months.  I am  now  progressing  rapidly  ; the  ‘ Mariana  ’ is 
nearly  completed,  and,  as  I expected,  the  gentleman  to  whom 
I promised  the  first  refusal  has  purchased  it.  The  Wood 
scene  is  likewise  far  advanced,  and  I hope  to  commence  the 
Noah  the  latter  part  of  this  week. 

“ I have  had  lately  an  order  to  paint  St.  George  and  the 
Dragon  for  next  year.  It  is  a curious  subject,  but  I like  it 
much,  as  it  is  the  badge  of  this  country. 

“ I see  Charley  every  night,  and  we  dine  alternate  Sundays 
at  each  other’s  houses.  To-night  he  comes  to  cheer  me  in 
my  solitude.  I give  up  all  invitations,  and  scarcely  ever  see 
anybody.  Have  still  got  my  cold,  and  do  not  expect  that 
tenacious  friend  will  take  any  notice  of  the  lozenge  warnings. 

. . .There  is  at  this  moment  such  a dreadful  fog  that  I cannot 
see  to  paint,  so  I devote  this  leisure  hour  to  you.  Remember 
me  affectionately  to  the  Early  Christian,  and  believe  me  most 
affectionately  yours,  John  Everett  Millais.” 


I oo 


JOHN  EVERETT  MILLAIS 

To  Mr.  Combe. 


[1851 


“83  Gower  Street, 

“ April  \st,  1851. 

“ My  dear  Mr.  Combe,  — I am  sure  you  will  never  have 
cause  to  regret  purchasing  ‘ The  Dove.’  It  is  considered  the 
best  picture  of  the  three  by  all  the  artists,  and  is  preferred 
for  the  subject  as  well.  It  will  be  highly  finished  to  the 
corners,  and  I shall  design  (when  it  returns  from  the 
Academy)  a frame  suitable  to  the  subject  — olive  leaves,  and 
a dove  at  each  corner  holding  the  branch  in  its  mouth. 

“ I have  designed  a frame  for  Charles’  painting  of  ‘ Lilies,’ 
which,  I expect,  will  be  acknowledged  to  be  the  best  frame 
in  England.  To  get  ‘ The  Dove’  as  good  as  possible,  I shall 
have  a frame  made  to  my  own  design. 

“ With  regard  to  your  remark  on  the  payment,  rest  assured 
that  when  it  suits  you  it  suits  me.  If  you  had  not  got  the 
picture  a gentleman  from  Birmingham  had  decided  on  having 
it.  One  of  the  connoisseurs  has  made  an  offer  to  Mr.  Farrer 
for  the  ‘ Mariana,’  which  he  has  declined,  being  determined  to 
keep  my  paintings.  This  from  such  a dealer  as  Farrer,  the 
first  judge  of  art  in  England,  proves  the  investment  on  such 
pictures  to  be  pretty  safe. 

“ As  soon  as  the  pictures  get  into  the  Academy  I shall 
be  at  leisure  to  give  an  account  to  Mrs.  Pat  of  my  later 
struggles. 

“ Believe  me,  very  sincerely  yours, 

“John  Everett  Millais.” 


To  the  same. 

“ 83  Gower  Street, 

“April  15th,  1851. 

“My  dear  Mr.  Combe,  — You  must  be  prepared  to  see 
an  immense  literary  assault  on  my  works  ; but  I fancy  some 
papers  will  give  me  all  the  credit  the  others  withhold,  do 
tell  you  the  truth,  artists  know  not  what  course  to  follow  — 
whether  to  acknowledge  the  truth  of  our  style,  or  to  stand 
out  against  it.  Many  of  the  most  important  have  already 
(before  me)  admitted  themselves  in  the  wrong — men  whose 
reputation  would  suffer  at  the  mention  of  their  names! 


CORRESPONDENCE 


IOI 


1851] 

“ I would  not  ask  anything  for  the  copyright,  as  the  en- 
graving will  cost  nearly  five  hundred  pounds.  That  in  itself 
is  a great  risk,  particularly  as  it  is  the  first  I shall  have  en- 
graved. I shall  not  permit  it  to  be  published  unless  perfectly 
satisfied  with  the  capabilities  of  the  etcher.  It  is  to  be  done 
entirely  in  line,  without  mezzotint.  I am  myself  confident 
of  its  success ; but  it  is  natural  that  men  without  the  slightest 
knowledge  should  be  a little  shy  of  giving  money  for  the 
copyright.* 

“ It  was  very  unfortunate  that  Charley  [Collins]  could  not 
complete  the  second  picture  for  the  Exhibition.  I tried  all 
the  encouraging  persuasions  in  my  power;  but  he  was  beaten 
by  a silk  dress  which  he  had  not  yet  finished.  I have 
ordered  another  canvas  to  begin  again  next  week,  intending 
to  take  a holiday  when  the  warmth  comes.  Such  a quantity 
of  loathsome  foreigners  stroll  about  the  principal  streets  that 
they  incline  one  to  take  up  a residence  in  Sweden,  outside  of 
the  fumes  of  their  tobacco.  I expect  all  respectable  families 
will  leave  London  after  the  first  month  of  the  Exhibition,  it 
will  be  so  crowded  with  the  lowest  rabble  of  all  the  countries 
in  Europe. 

“Say  all  the  kind  things  from  me  you,  as  a husband,  may 
think  fit  to  deliver  to  Mrs.  Pat,  and  believe  me, 

“ Ever  yours  affectionately, 

“John  Everett  Millais.” 


To  the  same. 

“ 83  Gower  Street, 

“ May  ()th,  1S5  1. 

“ M y dear  Mr.  Combe, — I received  the  shields  this 
morning,  and  hasten  to  thank  you  most  heartily.  I hope 
to  see  them  ranged  round  my  studio  next  week.  No  doubt 
you  have  seen  the  violent  abuse  of  my  pictures  in  the 
Times , which  I believe  has  sold  itself  to  destroy  us.  That, 
however,  is  quite  an  absurd  mistake  of  theirs,  for,  in  spite 
of  their  denouncing  my  pictures  as  unworthy  to  hang  on 
any  walls,  the  famous  critic,  Mr.  Ruskin,  has  written  offering 
to  purchase  your  picture  of  ‘ The  Return  of  the  Dove  to 
the  Ark.'  I received  his  letter  this  morning:,  and  have  this 

* The  picture  (“  The  Dove  ”)  was  never  engraved,  the  woodcut  only  appearing. 


io2  JOHN  EVERETT  MILLAIS  [rs5i 

evening  made  him  aware  of  the  previous  sale.  I have 
had  more  than  one  application  for  it,  and  you  could,  I have 
little  doubt,  sell  it  for  as  much  again  as  I shall  ask  you. 

“ There  are  few  papers  that  speak  favourably  of  me,  as 
they  principally  follow  the  Times.  For  once  in  a way  that 
great  leader  of  public  opinion  will  be  slightly  out  in  its  con- 
jectures. There  are  articles  in  the  Spectator  and  Daily  News 
as  great  in  praise  as  the  others  are  in  abuse. 

“ Where  are  you,  in  London  or  Oxford  ? Mrs.  Pat’s  letter 
did  not  specify  the  locality.  Remember  me  affectionately  to 
her,  and  believe  me, 

“ Ever  sincerely  yours, 

“John  Everett  Millais.” 


To  the  same. 

“83  Gower  Street, 

“ May  10th,  1851. 

“My  dear  Mr.  Combe, — I think  if  your  friend  admires 
Charley’s  sketch  he  would  be  particularly  charmed  with  the 
picture,  and  would  never  regret  its  purchase,  as  a work  so 
elaborately  studied  would  always  (after  the  present  panic) 
command  its  price,  ,£150. 

“Most  men  look  back  upon  their  early  paintings — for 
which  they  have  received  but  poor  remuneration  — as  the 
principal  instruments  of  their  after  wealth.  For  one  great 
instance,  see  Wilkie’s  ‘ Blind  Fiddler,’  sold  for  £20,  now 
worth  more  than  /,'ioqo!  Early  works  are  also  generally 
the  standard  specimens  of  artists,  as  great  success  blunts 
enthusiasm,  and  little  by  little  men  get  into  carelessness, 
which  is  construed  by  idiotic  critics  into  a nobler  handling. 
Putting  aside  the  good  work  of  purchasing  from  those 
who  require  encouragement,  such  patrons  will  be  respected 
afterwards  as  wise  and  useful  men  amongst  knavish  fools, 
who  should  be  destroyed  in  their  revolting  attempts  to  crush 
us  — attempts  so  obviously  malicious  as  to  prove  our  rapid 
ascendancy.  It  is  no  credit  to  a man  to  purchase  from  those 
who  are  opulent  and  acknowledged  by  the  world,  so  your 
friend  has  an  opportunity  for  becoming  one  of  the  first-named 
wise  patrons  who  shall,  if  we  live,  be  extolled  as  having 
assisted  in  our  (I  hope)  final  success. 

“Hunt  will,  I think,  sell  his;  there  is  a man  about  it, 


1851] 


CORRESPONDENCE 


103 

and  it  is  a very  fine  picture.  My  somewhat  showmanlike 
recommendation  of  Collins’  ‘Nun’  is  a pure  matter  of 
conscience,  and  I hope  it  will  prove  not  altogether  faulty. 

“Very  sincerely  yours, 

“John  E.  Millais. 

Hunt  wants  ^300  for  his  picture.” 

To  Mrs.  Combe. 

“ 83  Gower  Street, 

“2  8th,  1851. 

“ My  dear  Mrs.  Combe, — I feel  it  a duty  to  render  you 
my  most  heartfelt  thanks  for  the  noble  appreciation  of  my 
dear  friend  Collins’  work  and  character.  I include  character, 
for  I cannot  help  believing,  from  the  evident  good  feeling 
evinced  in  your  letter,  that  you  have  thought  more  of  the 
beneficial  results  the  purchase  may  occasion  him  than  of 
your  personal  gratification  at  possessing  the  picture. 

“You  are  not  mistaken  in  thus  believing  him  worthy 
of  your  kindest  interests,  for  there  are  few  so  devotedly 
directed  to  the  one  thought  of  some  day  (through  the 
medium  of  his  art)  turning  the  minds  of  men  to  good 
reflections  and  so  heightening  the  profession  as  one  of 
unworldly  usefulness  to  mankind. 

“ This  is  our  great  object  in  painting , for  the  thought 
of  simply  pleasing  the  senses  would  drive  us  to  other  pur- 
suits requiring  less  of  that  unceasing  attention  so  necessary 
to  the  completion  of  a perfect  work. 

“ I shall  endeavour  in  the  picture  I have  in  contemplation 
— ‘For  as  in  the  Days  that  were  Before  the  Flood,'  etc., 
etc.  — to  affect  those  who  may  look  on  it  with  the  awful 
uncertainty  of  life  and  the  necessity  of  always  being  pre- 
pared for  death.  My  intention  is  to  lay  the  scene  at 
the  marriage  feast.  The  bride,  elated  by  her  happiness, 
will  be  playfully  showing  her  wedding-ring  to  a young  girl, 
who  will  be  in  the  act  of  plighting  her  troth  to  a man  wholly 
engrossed  in  his  love,  the  parents  of  each  uniting  in  con- 
gratulation at  the  consummation  of  their  own  and  their 
children’s  happiness.  A drunkard  will  be  railing  boisterously 
at  another,  less  intoxicated,  for  his  cowardice  in  being  some- 
what appalled  at  the  view  the  open  window  presents — flats 
of  glistening  water,  revealing  but  the  summits  of  mountains 


1 04 


JOHN  EVERETT  MILLAIS 


[1851 


and  crests  of  poplars.  The  rain  will  be  beating  in  the  face 
of  the  terrified  attendant  who  is  holding  out  the  shutter, 
wall-stained  and  running  down  with  the  wet,  but  slightly 
as  yet  inundating  the  floor.  There  will  also  be  the  glutton 
quietly  indulging  in  his  weakness,  unheeding  the  sagacity 
of  his  grateful  dog,  who,  thrusting  his  head  under  his  hands 
to  attract  attention,  instinctively  feels  the  coming  ruin.  Then 
a woman  (typical  of  worldly  vanity)  apparelled  in  sumptuous 

attire,  witholding  her  robes 
from  the  contamination  of  his 
dripping  hide.  In  short,  all 
deaf  to  the  prophecy  of  the 
Deluge  which  is  swelling  before 
their  eves  — all  but  one  figure  in 
their  midst,  who,  upright  with 
closed  eyes,  prays  for  mercy  for 
those  around  her,  a patient  ex- 
ample of  belief  standing  with, 
but  far  from,  them  placidly 
awaiting  God's  will. 

“ I hope,  by  this  great  con- 
trast, to  excite  a reflection  on 
the  probable  way  in  which 
sinners  would  meet  the  coming 
death  — all  on  shore  hurrying 
from  height  to  heisrht  as  the 

o o 

sea  increases  ; the  wretched  self- 
congratulations  of  the  bachelor 
who,  having  but  himself  to 
save,  believes  in  the  prospect 
of  escape;  the  awful  feelings  of 
the  husband  who  sees  his  wife 
and  children  looking  in  his  face  for  support,  and  presently 
disappearing  one  by  one  in  the  pitiless  flood  as  he  miserably 
thinks  of  his  folly  in  not  having  taught  them  to  look  to  God 
for  help  in  times  of  trouble;  the  rich  man  who,  with  his  boat 
laden  with  wealth  and  provisions,  sinks  in  sight  of  his  fellow7- 
creatures  with  their  last  curse  on  his  head  for  his  selfishness; 
the  strong  man’s  strength  failing  gradually  as  he  clings  to 
some  fragment  floating  away  on  the  waste  of  water;  and 
other  great  sufferers  miserably  perishing  in  their  sins. 

“ I have  enlarged  on  this  subject  and  the  feelings  that 
I hope  will  arise  from  the  picture,  as  I know  you  will  be 


CORRESPONDENCE 


1851] 


I0d 


interested  in  it.  One  great  encouragement  to  me  is  the 
certainty  of  its  having  this  one  advantage  over  a sermon, 
that  it  will  be  all  at  once  put  before  the  spectator  without  that 
trouble  of  realisation  often  lost  in  the  effort  of  reading  or 
listening. 

“ My  pleasure  in  having  indirectly  assisted  two  friends  in 
the  disposal  of  their  pictures  is  enhanced  by  the  assurance 
that  you  estimate  their  merits.  It  is  with  extreme  pleasure 


SKETCHES  FOR  “MARIANA”  AND  “ THE  RETURN  OF  THE  DOVE.”  1850 

that  I received  that  letter  from  Mr.  Combe  in  which  he 
approves  of  his  picture  of  ‘ The  Return  of  the  Dove  to  the 
Ark,’  universally  acknowledged  to  be  my  best  work,  parts  of 
which  1 feel  incapable  of  surpassing.  When  you  come  to 
town  I will  show  you  many  letters  from  strangers  desirous  of 
purchasing  it,  which  is  the  best  proof  of  its  value  in  their  eyes. 
I he  price  I have  fixed  on  my  picture  is  a hundred  and  fifty 
guineas;  and  I hope  some  day  you  will  let  me  paint  you,  as 
a companion,  ‘ The  Dove's  First  Flight,’  which  would  make 
a beautiful  pendant.  Ever  yours  affectionately, 

“ John  Everett  Millais.” 


1 06  JOHN  EVERETT  MILLAIS  [i8Si 

“ Mariana  in  the  Moated  Grange  ” was  exhibited  this  year 
with  the  following  quotation  from  Tennyson’s  well-known 
poem : — 

“ She  only  said,  ‘ My  life  is  dreary  — 

He  cometh  not,’  she  said  : 

She  said,  ‘ I am  aweary,  aweary  — 

I would  that  I were  dead.’  ” 

The  picture  represents  Mariana  rising  to  her  full  height 
and  bending  backwards,  with  half-closed  eyes.  She  is  weary 
of  all  things,  including  the  embroidery-frame  which  stands 
before  her.  Her  dress  M deep  rich  blue  contrasts  with  the 
red-orange  colour  of  the  seat  beside  which  she  stands.  In 
the  front  of  the  figure  is  a window  of  stained  glass,  through 
which  may  be  seen  a sunlit  garden  beyond  ; and  in  contrast 
with  this  is  seen,  on  the  right  of  the  picture,  an  oratory,  in 
the  dark  shadow  of  which  a lamp  is  burning. 

Spielmann's  observations  on  this  work  are  not  quite  easy 
to  understand.  He  says  the  subject  is  a “ Rossettian  one, 
without  the  Rossettian  emotion.”  * If  so,  the  lack  of  emo- 
tion must  be  due  rather  to  the  poet  than  to  the  painter, 
for,  referring  to  this  picture  in  the  Magazine  of  Art  of 
September,  1896,  he  speaks  of  Millais’  “artistic  expression 
being  more  keenly  sensitive  to  the  highest  forms  of  written 
poetry  than  any  other  painter  of  his  eminence  who  ever 
appeared  in  England.”  He  thinks,  too,  that  the  colour  is 
too  strong  and  gay  to  be  quite  in  harmony  with  the  subject, 
though  immediately  afterwards  he  quotes  the  particular  lines 
which  Millais  sought  to  illustrate:  — 

“ . . . But  most  she  loathed  the  hour 
When  the  thick-moated  sunbeam  lay 
Athwart  the  chambers,  and  the  day 
Was  sloping  towards  his  Western  bower.” 

The  sun,  then,  was  shining  in  all  its  splendour,  and  though 
poor  Mariana  loathed  the  sight,  the  objects  it  illuminated 
were  none  the  less  brilliant  in  colour.  And  so  they  appear 
in  the  picture.  The  shadows,  too,  are  there  in  happy  con- 
trast, and  every  object  is  seen  in  its  true  atmosphere,  without 
any  clashing  of  values. 

In  the  Times  of  May  13th,  1851,  Ruskin  noticed  the 
picture  in  his  characteristic  manner.  He  was  glad  to  see 
that  Millais’  “ Lady  in  blue  is  heartily  tired  of  painted 

* The  critic,  too,  seems  to  forget  that  all  Rossetti’s  emotional  subjects  were 
painted  years  later. 


“MARIANA.”  1851 
By  permission  of  Jlfr.  Henry  Makins 


AN  OBLIGING  MOUSE 


is5ij 


1 09 


windows  and  idolatrous  toilet-table,”  but  maintained  generally 
that  since  the  days  of  Albert  Differ  no  studies  of  draperies 
and  details,  nothing  so  earnest  and  complete,  had  been 
achieved  in  art  — a judgment  which,  says  Spielmann,  “as 
regards  execution,  will  hardly  be  reversed  to-day.”  With 
delightful  inconsequence,  Ruskin  afterwards  added  that,  had 
Millais  “ painted  Mariana  at  work  in  an  unmoated  grange, 
instead  of  idle  in  a moated  one,  it  had  been  more  to  the 
purpose,  whether  of  art  or  life." 

The  picture  was  sold  to  Mr.  Farrer,  the  dealer,  for  one 
hundred  and  fifty  pounds,  and  after  passing  successively 
through  the  hands  of  Mr.  B.  Windus  and  Mr.  J.  M. 
Dunlop,  it  now  rests  with  Mr.  Henry  Makins,  who  also 
owns  “ Ferdinand  ” and  “ For  the  Squire.” 

During  the  execution  of  this  work  Millais  came  down 
one  day  and  found  that  things  were  at  a standstill  owing 
to  the  want  of  a model  to  paint  from.  He  naturally  disliked 
being  stopped  in  his  work  in  this  way,  and  the  only  thing 
he  could  think  of  was  to  sketch  in  the  mouse  that 

“ Behind  the  mouldering  wainscot  shrieked 
Or  from  the  crevice  peer’d  about.” 

But  where  was  the  mouse  to  paint  from?  Millais’  father, 
who  had  just  come  in,  thought  of  scouring  the  country  in 
search  of  one,  but  at  that  moment  an  obliging  mouse  ran 
across  the  floor  and  hid  behind  a portfolio.  Quick  as 
lightning  Millais  gave  the  portfolio  a kick,  and  on  removing 
it  the  poor  mouse  was  found  quite  dead  in  the  best  possible 
position  for  drawing  it.* 

The  window  in  the  background  of  “ Mariana  ” was  taken 
from  one  in  Merton  Chapel,  Oxford.  The  ceiling  of  the 
chapel  was  being  painted,  and  scaffolding  was  of  course  put 
up,  and  this  Millais  made  use  of  whilst  working.  The  scene 
outside  was  painted  in  the  Combes’  garden,  just  outside  their 
windows. 

Of  all  the  pictures  ever  painted,  there  is  probably  none 
more  truly  Pre-Raphaelite  in  character  than  one  I have 
already  mentioned  — “ The  Woodman's  Daughter.”  It  was 
painted  in  1850  in  a wood  near  Oxford,  and  was  exhibited 
in  1851.  Every  blade  of  grass,  every  leaf  and  branch,  and 

* A similar  incident,  in  which  the  wished-for  model  actually  appeared  at  the 
very  moment  when  its  presence  was  most  desired,  occurred  some  years  later,  when 
a collie  dog  suddenly  turned  up  to  serve  as  a model  in  “ Blow,  blow,  thou  Winter 
Wind.” 


I I o 


JOHN  EVERETT  MILLAIS  [i8Si 

every  shadow  that  they  cast  in  the  sunny  wood  is  presented 
here  with  unflinching  realism  and  infinite  delicacy  of  detail. 
Yet  the  figures  are  in  no  way  swamped  by  their  surroundings, 
every  accessory  taking  its  proper  place,  in  subordination  to 
the  figures  and  the  tale  they  have  to  tell.  The  contrast 
between  the  boy  — the  personification  of  aristocratic  refine- 
ment— and  the  untutored  child  of  nature  is  very  striking, 
as  was  no  doubt  intended  by  Mr.  Coventry  Patmore,  whose 
poem,  “ The  Tale  of  Poor  Maud,”  daughter  of  Gerald  the 
woodman,  the  picture  was  intended  to  illustrate. 

“ Her  tale  is  this  : In  the  sweet  age, 

When  Heaven ’s  our  side  the  lark, 

She  used  to  go  with  Gerald  where 
He  work’d  from  mom  to  dark, 

For  months,  to  thin  the  crowded  groves 
Of  the  ancient  manor  park. 

“ She  went  with  him  to  think  she  help’d  : 

And  whilst  he  hack’d  and  saw’d 
The  rich  Squire’s  son,  a young  boy  then, 

Whole  mornings,  as  if  awed, 

Stood  silent  by,  and  gazed  in  turn 
At  Gerald  and  on  Maud. 

“ And  sometimes,  in  a sullen  tone, 

He ’d  offer  fruits,  and  she 
Received  them  always  with  an  air 
So  unreserved  and  free, 

That  shame-faced  distance  soon  became 
Familiarity.” 

William  Millais  contributes  the  following  note  on  this 
painting : — 

“ I think,  perhaps,  the  most  beautiful  background  ever 
painted  by  my  brother  is  to  be  found  in  his  picture  of  ‘ The 
Woodman’s  Daughter’  — a copse  of  young  oaks  standing  in 
a tangle  of  bracken  and  untrodden  underwood,  every  plant 
graceful  in  its  virgin  splendour. 

“ Notice  the  exquisitely  tender  greys  in  the  bark  of  the 
young  oak  in  the  foreground,  against  which  the  brilliantly 
clothed  lordling  is  leaning.  Every  touch  in  the  fretwork 
tracery  all  about  it  lias  been  caressed  by  a true  lover  of  his 
art,  for  in  these  his  glorious  early  days  one  can  see  that  not 
an  iota  was  slurred  over,  but  that  every  beauty  in  nature  met 
with  its  due  appreciation  at  his  hands. 

“ Eye  cannot  follow  the  mysterious  interlacing  of  all  the 
wonderful  green  things  that  spring  up  all  about,  where  every 
kind  of  woodgrowth  seems  to  be  striving  to  get  the  upper 


ISSI] 


THE  WOODMAN’S  DAUGHTER 


1 1 1 


hand  and  to  reach  the  sunlight  first,  where  every  leaf  and 
tendril  stands  out  in  bold  relief. 

“ This  background  was  painted  near  Oxford,  in  a most 
secluded  spot,  and  yet  my  brother  had  a daily  visitor  — ‘ a 
noble  lord  of  high  degree  ’ — who  used  to  watch  him  work  for 
a minute  or  two,  make  one  remark,  ‘Well,  you  are  getting 
on;  you’ve  plenty  of  room  yet,’  and  then  silently  disappear. 
After  a time  these  visits  ceased,  and  upon  their  renewal  my 
brother  had  in  the  interim  almost  finished  the  background. 
The  visitor,  on  seeing  his  work,  exclaimed,  ‘ Why,  after  all, 
you’ve  not  got  it  in!’  My  brother  asked  what  it  was. 
‘Why,  Oxford,  of  course!  You  should  have  put  it  in.’ 
Millais,  who  had  his  back  to  the  town,  explained  that  al- 
though Art  could  do  wonders,  it  had  never  yet  been  able  to 
paint  all  round  the  compass.” 

To  be  near  his  work  on  this  picture  Millais  stayed  in  the 
cottage  of  a Mrs.  King,  at  Bottley,  Lord  Abingdon’s  park, 
where  he  was  joined  by  his  friend  Charles  Collins. 

Mr.  Arthur  Hughes  writes:  “ F.  G.  Stephens  has  de- 
scribed to  me  how  he  was  with  Millais  in  the  country  when 
painting  ‘ The  Woodman’s  Daughter  ’ (the  subject  from 
Coventry  Patmore),  and  how  Millais  was  painting  a small 
feather  dropped  from  a bird  in  the  immediate  foreground  ; 
how  he  stamped  and  cursed  over  it,  and  then  scraped  it  out, 
and  swore  he  would  get  it  right — and  did. 

“ The  strawberries  which  appear  in  the  picture,  as  pre- 
sented by  the  young  aristocrat,  were  bought  in  Covent 
Garden  in  March.  ‘ I had  to  pay  five-and-sixpence  for  the 
four  — a vast  sum  for  me  in  those  days,  but  necessary’ — -I 
have  heard  him  say,  ‘and  Charlie  Collins  and  I ate  them 
afterwards  with  a thankful  heart.’  ” 

It  was  in  this  year  (1851)  that  Ruskin  took  up  arms  in 
defence  of  the  Pre-Raphaelite  Brotherhood,  and  no  more 
earnest  or  more  eloquent  advocate  could  they  have  desired. 
In  the  first  volume  of  Modern  Painters  he  insisted  that 
“that  only  is  a complete  picture  which  has  both  the  general 
wholeness  and  effect  of  Nature  and  the  inexhaustible  per- 
fection of  Nature's  details  ” ; and,  pointing  to  “ the  admirable, 
though  strange  pictures  of  Mr.  Millais  and  Mr.  Holman 
Hunt’  as  examples  of  progress  in  this  direction,  he  added, 
“they  are  endeavouring  to  paint,  with  the  highest  possible 
degree  of  completion,  what  they  see  in  Nature,  without  refer- 
ence to  conventional  or  established  rules  ; but  by  no  means 


1 12  JOHN  EVERETT  MILLAIS  [is5i- 

to  imitate  the  style  of  any  past  epoch.  Their  works  are, 
in  finish  of  drawing  and  in  splendour  of  colour,  the  best 
in  the  Royal  Academy,  and  1 have  great  hope  that  they 
may  become  the  foundation  of  a more  earnest  and  able 
school  of  Art  than  we  have  seen  for  centuries.” 

Here  was  a heavy  blow  to  the  Philistines  of  the  Press; 
for  at  this  time  Ruskin  was  all  but  universally  accepted  as 
the  final  authority  in  matters  of  Art.  But  a heavier  yet 
was  in  store  for  them.  In  an  addendum  to  one  of  his 
published  Lectures  on  Architecture  and  Painting  — lectures 
delivered  at  Edinburgh  in  November,  1S53  — he  declared 
that  “ the  very  faithfulness  of  the  Pre-Raphaelites  arises 
from  the  redundance  of  their  imaginative  power.  Not  only 
can  all  the  members  of  the  [Pre-Raphaelite]  School  compose 
a thousand  times  better  than  the  men  who  pretend  to  look 
down  upon  them,  but  I question  whether  even  the  greatest 
men  of  old  times  possessed  more  exhaustless  invention  than 
either  Millais  or  Rossetti.  . . . As  I was  copying  this 
sentence  a pamphlet  was  put  into  my  hand,  written  by  a 
clergyman,  denouncing,  ‘Woe,  woe,  woe,  to  exceedingly 
young  men  of  stubborn  instincts  calling  themselves  Pre- 
Raphaelites.’  I thank  God  that  the  Pre-Raphaelites  are 
young,  and  that  strength  is  still  with  them,  and  life,  with 
all  the  war  of  it,  still  in  front  of  them.  Yet  Everett  Millais, 
in  this  year,  is  of  the  exact  age  at  which  Raphael  painted 
the  ‘ Disputa, ’ his  greatest  work;  Rossetti  and  Hunt  are 
both  of  them  older  still;  nor  is  there  one  member  so  young 
as  Giotto  when  he  was  chosen  from  among  the  painters  to 
decorate  the  Vatican  of  Italy.  But  Italy,  in  her  great 
period,  knew  her  great  men,  and  did  not  despise  their  youth. 
It  is  reserved  for  England  to  insult  the  strength  of  her 
noblest  children,  to  wither  their  warm  enthusiasm  early 
into  the  bitterness  of  patient  battle,  and  to  leave  to  those 
whom  she  should  have  cherished  and  aided  no  hope  but 
in  resolution,  no  refuge  but  in  disdain.” 

Thus  spoke  the  oracle  in  1853,  nor  (as  will  presently 
appear)  was  his  zeal  abated  in  1855,  when  “The  Rescue” 
was  exhibited,  or  in  1856,  when  “ Peace  Concluded  ” ap- 
peared on  the  Academy  walls.  But,  strange  to  say,  after 
that  period  works  of  Millais,  executed  with  equal  care  and 
with  the  same  fastidious  regard  for  details  (the  lovely  “Vale 
of  Rest  ” and  “ Sir  Isumbras”  for  instance),  were  condemned 
by  him  in  unmeasured  terms. 


THE  WOODMAN’S  DAUGHTER.  1849 


1 — 8 


CHAPTER  IV 


Millais  commences  “ Ophelia  ” — Holman  Hunt,  Charles  Collins,  William  and  John 
Millais  paint  at  Worcester  Park  Farm  — Further  letters  to  the  Combes  — Millais 
thinks  of  going  to  the  East  — Commencement  of  diary  and  “ The  Huguenot” 

— Hunt  at  work  on  “ The  Light  of  the  World  ” and  “ The  Hireling  Shepherd  ” 

— Collins’  last  picture  — Millais’  idea  for  “ The  Huguenot  ” — He  argues  it  out 
with  Hunt  — Meets  an  old  sweetheart — Returns  to  Gower  Street  — Miss  Siddal's 
sufferings  as  model  for  “ Ophelia” — Success  of  “ Ophelia  ” — Arthur  Hughes 
and  Millais — Critics  of  1852  — Woman  in  art — General  Lempriere  on  his 
sittings  for  “ The  Huguenot  ” — Miss  Ryan  — Miller,  of  Preston  — Letters  from 
Gower  Street. 

OPHELIA”  and  “The  Huguenot,”  both  of  which 
Millais  painted  during  the  autumn  and  winter  of 
1851,  are  so  familiar  in  every  English  home  that  I need 
not  attempt  to  describe  them  here.  The  tragic  end  of 
“ Hamlet’s  ” unhappy  love  had  long  been  in  his  mind  as  a 
subject  he  should  like  to  paint ; and  now  while  the  idea  was 
strong  upon  him  he  determined  to  illustrate  on  canvas  the 
lines  in  which  she  is  presented  as  floating  down  the  stream 
singing  her  last  song:  — 

“ There  on  the  pendent  boughs  her  coronet  of  weeds 
Clamb’ring  to  hang,  an  envious  sliver  broke  ; 

When  down  the  weedy  trophies  and  herself 

Fell  in  the  weeping  brook.  Her  clothes  spread  wide, 

And,  mermaid-like,  awhile  they  bore  her  up  ; 

Which  time  she  chanted  snatches  of  old  tunes, 

As  one  incapable  of  her  own  distress, 

Or  like  a creature  native  and  indued 
Onto  that  element ; but  long  it  could  not  be, 

Till  that  her  garments,  heavy  with  their  drink, 

Pull’d  the  poor  wretch  from  her  melodious  lay 
To  muddy  death.”  * 

Near  Kingston,  and  close  to  the  home  of  his  friends  the 
Lemprieres,  is  a sweet  little  river  called  the  Ewell,  which 
flows  into  the  1 hames.  Here,  under  some  willows  by  the 
side  of  a hayfield,  the  artist  found  a spot  that  was  in  every 


* Hamlet , act  iv. 
"5 


1 16  JOHN  EVERETT  MILLAIS  [185. 

way  suitable  for  the  background  of  his  picture,  in  the  month 
of  July,  when  the  river  flowers  and  water- weeds  were  in  full 
bloom.  Having  selected  his  site,  the  next  thing  was  to 
obtain  lodgings  within  easy  distance,  and  these  he  secured 
in  a cottage  near  Kingston,  with  his  friend  Holman  Hunt  as 
a companion.  They  were  not  there  very  long,  however,  for 
presently  came  into  the  neighbourhood  two  other  members  of 
the  Pre-Raphaelite  fraternity,  bent  on  working  together;  and, 
uniting  with  them,  the  two  moved  into  Worcester  Park  Farm, 
where  an  old  garden  wall  happily  served  as  a background 
for  the  “ Huguenot,”  at  which  Millais  could  now  work 
alternately  with  the  “ Ophelia.” 

It  was  a jolly  bachelor  party  that  now  assembled  in  the 
farmhouse  — Holman  Hunt,  Charlie  Collins,  William  and 
John  Millais  — all  determined  to  work  in  earnest;  Holman 
Hunt  on  his  famous  “ Light  of  the  World  ” and  “ The  Hire- 
ling Shepherd,”  Charlie  Collins  at  a background,  William 
Millais  on  water-colour  landscapes,  and  my  father  on  the 
backgrounds  for  the  two  pictures  he  had  then  in  hand. 

From  ten  in  the  morning  till  dark  the  artists  saw  little  of 
each  other,  but  when  the  evenings  “ brought  all  things  home  ” 
they  assembled  to  talk  deeply  on  Art,  drink  strong  tea,  and 
discuss  and  criticise  each  other’s  pictures. 

P'ortunately  a record  of  these  interesting  days  is  preserved 
to  us  in  Millais’  letters  to  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Combe,  and  his  diary 
— the  only  one  he  ever  kept  — which  was  written  at  this  time, 
and  retained  by  my  uncle  William,  who  has  kindly  placed  it 
at  my  disposal.  Here  are  some  of  his  letters  — the  first  of 
which  I would  commend  to  the  attention  of  Max  Nordau, 
referring  as  it  does  to  Ruskin,  whom  Millais  met  for  the  first 
time  in  the  summer  of  this  year.  It  was  written  from  the 
cottage  near  Kingston  before  Millais  and  Hunt  removed  to 
Worcester  Park  Farm. 


To  Mrs.  Combe. 


“ Surbiton  Hill,  Kingston, 

“ July  2nd,  1S51. 

“ My  dear  Mrs.  Combe,  — I have  dined  and  taken  breakfast 
with  Ruskin,  and  we  are  such  good  friends  that  he  wishes 
me  to  accompany  him  to  Switzerland  this  summer.  . . . We 
are  as  yet  singularly  at  variance  in  our  opinions  upon  Art. 


“OPHELIA.”  1852 
By  permission  of  H . Graves  and  Son 


i8sO 


CORRESPONDENCE 


1 1 9 

One  of  our  differences  is  about  Turner.  He  believes  that  I 
shall  be  converted  on  further  acquaintance  with  his  works, 
and  I that  he  will  gradually  slacken  in  his  admiration. 

“You  will  see  that  I am  writing  this  from  Kingston,  where 
I am  stopping,  it  being  near  to  a river  that  I am  painting  for 
* Ophelia.’  We  get  up  (Hunt  is  with  me)  at  six  in  the 
morning,  and  are  at  work  by  eight,  returning  home  at  seven 
in  the  evening.  The  lodgings  we  have  are  somewhat  better 
than  Mistress  King’s  at  Botley,  but  are,  of  course,  horribly 
uncomfortable.  We  have  had  for  dinner  chops  and  suite 
of  peas,  potatoes,  and  gooseberry  tart  four  days  running. 
We  spoke  not  about  it,  believing  in  the  certainty  of  some 
change  taking  place;  but  in  private  we  protest  against 
the  adage  that  ‘you  can  never  have  too  much  of  a good 
thing.’  The  countryfolk  here  are  a shade  more  civil  than 
those  of  Oxfordshire,  but  similarly  given  to  that  wondering 
stare,  as  though  we  were  as  strange  a sight  as  the  hippo- 
potamus.* 

“ My  martyrdom  is  more  trying  than  any  I have  hitherto 
experienced.  The  flies  of  Surrey  are  more  muscular,  and 
have  a still  greater  propensity  for  probing  human  flesh.  Our 
first  difficulty  was  ...  to  acquire  rooms.  Those  we  now 
have  are  nearly  four  miles  from  Hunt’s  spot  and  two  from 
mine,  so  we  arrive  jaded  and  slightly  above  that  temperature 
necessary  to  make  a cool  commencement.  I sit  tailor-fashion 
under  an  umbrella  throwing  a shadow  scarcely  larger  than  a 
halfpenny  for  eleven  hours,  with  a child’s  mug  within  reach  to 
satisfy  my  thirst  from  the  running  stream  beside  me.  I am 
threatened  with  a notice  to  appear  before  a magistrate  for 
trespassing  in  a field  and  destroying  the  hay;  likewise  by  the 
admission  of  a bull  in  the  same  field  after  the  said  hay  be 
cut;  am  also  in  danger  of  being  blown  by  the  wind  into  the 
water,  and  becoming  intimate  with  the  feelings  of  Ophelia 
when  that  lady  sank  to  muddy  death,  together  with  the  (less 
likely)  total  disappearance,  through  the  voracity  of  the  flies. 
I here  are  two  swans  who  not  a little  add  to  my  misery  by 
persisting  in  watching  me  from  the  exact  spot  I wish  to 
paint,  occasionally  destroying  every  water-weed  within  their 

* It  was  in  this  year,  1850,  that  the  first  specimen  of  the  hippopotamus  was 
seen  in  London.  Millais  seems  to  have  been  of  the  same  opinion  as  Lord 
Macaulay,  who  says:  “I  have  seen  the  hippopotamus,  both  asleep  and  awake; 
and  I can  assure  you  that,  awake  or  asleep,  he  is  the  ugliest  of  the  works 
of  God.” 


I 20 


JOHN  EVERETT  MILLAIS 


[1851 


reach.  My  sudden  perilous  evolutions  on  the  extreme  bank, 
to  persuade  them  to  evacuate  their  position,  have  the  effect 
of  entirely  deranging  my  temper,  my  picture,  brushes,  and 
palette;  but,  on  the  other  hand,  they  cause  those  birds  to 
look  most  benignly  upon  me  with  an  expression  that  seems 
to  advocate  greater  patience.  Certainly  the  painting  of  a 
picture  under  such  circumstances  would  be  a greater  punish- 
ment to  a murderer  than  hanging. 

“ I have  read  the  Sheep  folds,  but  cannot  give  an  opinion 


l85i]  CORRESPONDENCE  121 

upon  it  yet.  I feel  it  very  lonely  here.  Please  write  before 
my  next. 

“ My  love  to  the  Early  Christian  and  remembrances  to 
friends. 

“ Very  affectionately  yours, 

“ John  Everett  Millais.” 


THE  LAST  SCENE,  “ROMEO  AND  JULIET.”  1848 


To  Mrs.  Combe. 

“ Surbiton  Hill,  Kingston, 

“July,  1851. 

“My  dear  Mrs.  Pat, — I have  taken  such  an  aversion 
to  sheep,  from  so  frequently  having  mutton  chops  for  dinner, 
that  I feel  my  very  feet  revolt  at  the  proximity  of  woollen 
socks.  Your  letter  received  to-day  was  so  entertaining  that 
I (reading  and  eating  alternately)  nearly  forgot  what  I was 
devouring.  This  statement  will,  I hope,  induce  Mr.  Combe 
to  write  to  me  as  a relish  to  the  inevitable  chops.  The 
steaks  of  Surrey  are  tougher  than  Brussels  carpets,  so  they 
are  out  of  the  question. 

“We  are  getting  on  very  soberly,  but  have  some  sus- 
picions that  the  sudden  decrease  of  our  bread  and  butter  is 
occasioned  by  the  C family  (under  momentary  aber- 

ration) mistaking  our  fresh  butter  for  their  briny.  To 
ascertain  the  truth,  we  intend  bringing  our  artistic  capacity 
to  bear  upon  the  eatables  in  question  by  taking  a careful 


122  JOHN  EVERETT  MILLAIS  [i8Si 

drawing  of  their  outline.  Upon  their  reappearance  we  shall 
refer  to  the  portraits,  and  thereby  discover  whether  the  steel 
of  Sheffield  has  shaven  their  features.  [This  they  did  and 
made  sketches  of  the  butter.]  Hunt  is  writing  beside  me 
the  description  of  (his)  your  picture.  He  has  read  Ruskin’s 
pamphlet,  and  with  me  is  anxious  to  read  Dyce’s  reply, 
which  I thank  you  for  ordering.  In  the  field  where  I am 
painting  there  is  hay-making  going  on  ; so  at  times  I am 
surrounded  by  women  and  men,  the  latter  of  which  remark 
that  mine  is  a tedious  job,  that  theirs  is  very  warm  work, 
that  it  thundered  somewhere  yesterday,  that  it  is  likely  we 
shall  have  rain,  and  that  they  feel  thirsty , very  thirsty.  An 
uneasiness  immediately  comes  over  me  ; my  fingers  tingle 
to  bestow  a British  coin  upon  the  honest  yeomen  to  get  rid 
of  them;  but  no,  I shall  not  indulge  the  scoundrels  after 
their  rude  and  greedy  applications.  Finding  hints  move  me 
not,  they  boldly  ask  for  money  for  a drop  of  drink.  In  the 
attitude  of  Napoleon  commanding  his  troops  over  the  Alps, 
I desire  them  to  behold  the  river,  the  which  I drink.  Then 
comes  a shout  of  what  some  writers  would  call  honest 
country  laughter,  and  I,  coarse  brutality.  Almost  every 
morning  Hunt  and  I give  money  to  children  ; so  all  the 
mothers  send  their  offspring  (amounting  by  appearance  to 
twelve  each)  in  the  line  of  our  road  ; and  in  rank  and  file 
they  stand  curtsying  with  flattened  palms  ready  to  receive 
the  copper  donation.  This  I like  ; but  men  with  arms  larger 
round  than  my  body  hinting  at  money  disgust  me  so  much 
that  I shall  paint  some  day  (I  hope)  a picture  laudatory 
of  Free  Trade. 

“ Good-night  to  yourself  and  Mr.  Combe ; and  believe 
that  I shall  ever  remain 

“ Most  faithfully  yours, 

“John  Everett  Millais.” 


To  Mrs.  Combe. 

“ Kingston. 

“ July  2 Sth,  1851. 

“ My  dear  Mrs.  Combe,  — Many  thanks  for  Dyce’s  answer, 
which  I received  yesterday,  and  as  yet  have  read  but  little, 
and  that  little  imperfectly  understand. 

“ In  answer  to  your  botanical  inquiries,  the  flowering  rush 


CORRESPONDENCE 


123 


1851] 

grows  most  luxuriantly  along  the  banks  of  the  river  here, 
and  I shall  paint  it  in  the  picture  [‘Ophelia’].  The  other 
plant  named  I am  not  sufficiently  learned  in  dowers  to  know. 
There  is  the  dog-rose,  river-daisy,  forget-me-not,  and  a kind 
of  soft,  straw-coloured  blossom  (with  the  word  ‘ sweet ' in 
its  name)  also  growing  on  the  bank ; I think  it  is  called 
meadow-sweet. 

“I  am  nightly  working  my  brains  for  a subject.  Some 
incident  to  illustrate  patience  I have  a desire  to  paint. 
When  I catch  one  I shall  write  you  the  description. 

“ I enclose  Hunt’s  key  to  the  missionary  picture,  with 
apologies  from  him  for  not  having  sooner  prepared  it. 
Begging  you  to  receive  his  thanks  for  your  kind  invitation, 
believe  me,  with  affectionate  regards  to  Mr.  Combe, 

“ Most  truly  yours, 

“John  Everett  Millais.” 


To  Mrs.  Combe. 

“Worcester  Park  Farm,  near  Cheam,  Surrey. 

“ September,  1851. 

“My  dear  Mrs.  Combe,  — You  will  see  by  the  direction 
that  we  have  changed  our  spot,  and  much  for  the  better. 
Nothing  can  exceed  the  comfort  of  this  new  place.  Eittle 
to  write  about  except  mishaps  that  have  occurred  to  me. 

“ 1 have  broken  the  nail  of  the  left-hand  little  finger 
off  at  the  root ; the  accident  happened  in  catching  a ball 
at  cricket.  1 thought  at  first  the  bone  was  broken,  so  I 
moved  off  at  once  to  a doctor,  who  cut  something,  and  said 
I should  lose  the  nail.  I have  been  also  bedridden  three 
days  from  a bilious  attack,  from  which,  through  many  drugs, 
I am  recovered. 

“ We  all  three  live  together  as  happily  as  ancient  monastic 
brethren.  Charley  [Collins]  has  immensely  altered,  scarcely 
indulging  in  an  observation.  I believe  he  inwardly  thinks 
that  carefulness  of  himself  is  better  for  his  soul.  Outwardly 
it  goes  far  to  destroy  his  society,  which  now,  when  it 
happens  that  I am  alone  with  him,  is  intolerably  unsym- 
pathetic. I wish  you  could  see  this  farm,  situated  on  one 
of  the  highest  hills  in  this  county.  In  front  of  the  house 
there  is  one  of  the  finest  avenues  of  elm  trees  I ever  saw. 

“ We  live  almost  entirely  on  the  produce  of  the  farm, 


124  JOHN  EVERETT  MILLAIS  [ibSi 

which  supplies  every  necessary.  Collins  scarcely  ever  eats 
pastry;  he  abstains,  I fancy,  on  religious  principles. 

“ Remember  me  affectionately  to  the  mother  who  pampers 
him,  and  believe  me 

“ Most  affectionately  yours, 

“ John  Millais.” 


To  Mr.  Combe. 

“ Worcester  Park  Farm, 

“ October  15  th,  1851. 

“My  dear  Mr.  Combe,  — You  must  have  felt  sometimes 
quite  incapable  of  answering  a letter.  Such  has  been  my 
state.  I have  made  two  fruitless  attempts,  and  shudder 
for  the  end  of  this.  Hunt  and  self  are  both  delighted 
by  your  letter,  detecting  in  it  a serious  intent  to  behold 
us  plant  the  artistic  umbrella  on  the  sands  of  Asia.  He 
has  read  one  of  the  travels  you  sent  us,  The  Camp  and 
the  Caravan , and  considers  the  obstacles  as  trifling  and 
easy  to  be  overcome  by  three  determined  men,  two  of  whom 
will  have  the  aspect  of  ferocity,  being  bearded  like  the  parch 
Hunt  can  testify  to  the  fertility  of  my  upper  lip,  which 
augers  well  for  the  under  soil.  It  therefore  (under  a tropical 
sun)  may  arrive  at  a Druidical  excellence. 

“ Two  of  the  children  belonging  to  the  house  have  come 
in  and  will  not  be  turned  out.  I play  with  them  till  dinner 
and  resume  work  again  afterwards.  The  weather  to-day 
has  prevented  my  painting  out  of  doors,  so  I comfortably 
painted  from  some  flowers  in  the  dining-room.  Hunt  walked 
to  his  spot,  but  returned  disconsolate  and  wet  through. 
Collins  worked  in  his  shed  and  looked  most  miserable;  he  is 
at  this  moment  cleaning  his  palette.  Hunt  is  smoking 
a vulgar  pipe.  He  will  have  the  better  of  us  in  the  Holy 
Land,  as  a hookah  goes  with  the  costume.  I like  not  the 
prospect  of  scorpions  and  snakes,  with  which  I foresee 
we  shall  get  closely  intimate.  Painting  on  the  river’s  bank 
(Nile  or  Jordan)  as  I have  done  here  will  be  next  to 
throwing  oneself  into  the  alligators'  jaws,  so  all  water- 
sketching is  put  aside.  Forgive  this  nonsensible  scribble. 

I am  only  capable  of  writing  my  very  kindest  remembrances 
to  Mrs.  Pat,  in  which  Charley  and  Hunt  join. 

“ Most  faithfully  yours, 

“John  Everett  Millais.” 


EXTRACTS  FROM  DIARY 


1851] 


1 2 5 


At  this  time  Millais  had  serious  thoughts  of  going  to  the 
East  with  Hunt,  but  eventually  gave  up  the  idea. 

And  now  commences  the  diary,  written  closely  and  care- 
fully on  sheets  of  notepaper.  The  style  savours  somewhat 
of  the  conversation  of  Mr.  Jingle;  but,  as  in  that  gentleman’s 
short  and  pithy  sentences,  the  substance  is  clear. 


EXTRACTS  FROM  DIARY. 

I am  advised  by  Coventry  Patmore  to  keep  a diary. 
Commence  one  forthwith.  — To-day,  October  16th,  1S51, 
worked  on  my  picture  [‘  The  Huguenot  ’]  ; painted  nastur- 
tiums ; saw  a stoat  run  into  a hole  in  the  garden  wall;  went 
up  to  it  and  endeavoured  to  lure  the  little  beast  out  by 
mimicking  a rat’s  or  mouse’s  squeak  — not  particular  which. 
Succeeded,  to  my  astonishment.  He  came  half  out  of  the 
hole  and  looked  in  my  face,  within  easy  reach. 

“ Lavinia  (little  daughter  of  landlady)  I allowed  to  sit 
behind  me  on  the  box  border  and  watch  me  paint,  on 
promise  of  keeping  excessively  quiet;  she  complained  that 
her  seat  struck  very  cold.  In  the  adjoining  orchard,  boy 
and  family  knocking  down  apples  ; youngest  sister  but  one 
screaming.  Mother  remarked,  ' I wish  you  were  in  Heaven, 
my  child;  you  are  always  crying’;  and  a little  voice  behind 
me  chimed  in,  ‘ Heaven  ! where  God  lives?  ’ and  (turning  to 
me)  ‘ You  can’t  see  God.’  Eldest  sister,  Fanny,  came  and 
looked  on  too.  Told  me  her  mother  says,  about  a quarter  to 
six,  ‘ There ’s  Long-limbs  (J.  E.  M.)  whistling  for  his  dinner; 
be  quick  and  get  it  ready.’  Played  with  children  en  masse  in 
the  parlour  before  their  bedtime.  Hunt  just  come  in.  . . . 
Sat  up  till  past  twelve  and  discovered  first-rate  story  for  my 
present  picture. 

‘‘''October  17th.  — Beautiful  morning:  frost  on  the  barn 
roofs  and  the  green  before  the  houses.  Played  with  the 
children  after  breakfast,  and  began  painting  about  nine. 
Baby  screaming  — commenced  about  ten  o’clock.  Exhibition 
of  devilish  passion,  from  which  it  more  particularly  occurred 
to  me  that  we  are  born  in  sin.  Family  crying  continually, 
with  slight  intermission  to  recover  strength.  Lavinia  beaten 
and  put  under  the  garden  clothes-pole  for  being  naughty,  to 
stay  there  until  more  composed.  Perceiving  that  to  be  an 
uncertain  period,  I kissed  her  wet  eyes  and  released  her 
from  her  position  and  sat  her  by  me.  Quite  dumb  for  some 


JOHN  EVERETT  MILLAIS 


i 26 


[1851 


time;  suddenly  tremendously  talkative.  These  are  some  of 
her  observations:  ‘We  haven’t  killed  little  Betsy  (the  pig) 
yet;  she  means  to  have  little  pigs  herself.  Ann  (the 
servant)  says  she  is  going  to  be  your  servant,  and  me  your 
cook,  when  you  get  married.’  Upon  asking  her  whether 
she  could  cook,  she  answered,  ‘Not  like  the  cooks  do.’  At 
five  gave  up  painting.  Bitter  cold.  Children  screaming 
again.” 

“ October  iS th.  — Fine  sunny  morning.  Ate  grapes.  Little 
Fanny  worked  at  a doll’s  calico  petticoat  on  a chair  beside 
me.  Driven  in  by  drizzling  weather,  I work  in  the  parlour; 
Fanny,  my  companion,  rather  troublesome.  Coaxed  her  out. 
Roars  of  laughter  outside  the  window — F.  flattening  her 
nose  against  the  pane.  Mrs.  Stapleton  called,  with  married 
son  and  daughter,  and  admired  my  pictures  ecstatically. 
Collins  gone;  went  home  after  dinner.  Sat  with  Hunt  in 
the  evening ; pelted  at  a candle  outside  with  little  white 
balls  that  grow  on  a shrub.  Composed  design  of  ‘ Repentant 
Sinner  laying  his  head  in  Christ’s  bosom.’  * 

“ October  igt/1  {Sunday).  — Expected  Rossetti,  who  never 
came.  Governor  [his  father]  spent  the  day  with  us,  saw 
Hunt's  picture  and  mine,  and  was  delighted  with  them. 
Went  to  church.  Capital  sermon.  Poor  Mr.  Lewis  felt 
very  gloomy  all  the  day ; supposed  it  to  be  the  weather, 
that  being  dull  and  drizzling.  . . . Found  two  servants 
of  Captain  Shepherd  — both  very  pretty  — one  of  whom  I 
thought  of  getting  to  sit  for  my  picture.  Traversing  the 
same  road  home,  entered  into  conversation  with  them.  Both 
perfectly  willing  to  sit,  and  evidently  expecting  it  to  be  an 
affair  of  a moment  — one  suggesting  a pencil-scratch  from 
which  the  two  heads  in  our  pictures  could  be  painted  ! Bade 
them  good-night,  feeling  certain  they  will  come  to  the  farm 
to-morrow  for  e^s  or  cream.  Went  out  to  meet  Collins, 
but  found  we  were  too  early,  so  came  home  and  had  tea. 

I (too  tired  to  go  out  again)  sit  down  and  write  this,  whilst 
Hunt  sets  out  once  more  with  a large  horn-lantern.  Despair 
of  ever  gaining  my  right  position,  owing  to  hearing  this  day 
that  the  Committee  of  Judgment  of  the  Great  Exhibition 
have  awarded  a bronze  medal  in  approbation  of  the  most 
sickening  horror  ever  produced,  ‘ The  Greek  Slave.’  Collins 
returned  with  his  hair  cut  as  close  as  a man  in  a House  of 
Correction. 

* This  sketch,  now  in  my  possession,  was  never  transferred  to  canvas. 


iSsi] 


EXTRACTS  FROM  DIARY 


1 27 

“ October  20 th.  — Finished  flowers  after  breakfast,  after 
which  went  out  to  bottom  of  garden  and  commenced  brick 
wall.  Received  letter  from  James  Michael  — complimentary, 
as  containing  a prediction  that  I shall  be  the  greatest  painter 
England  ever  produced.  Felt  languid  all  day.  Finished 
work  about  five  and  went  out  to  see  Charley.  Walked  on 
afterwards  to  meet  Hunt,  and  waited  for  him.  In  opening 
the  gate  entering  the  farm,  met  the  two  girls.  Spoke  further 
with  one  on  the  matter  of  sitting. 

“ October  2\st. — Painted  from  the  wall  and  got  on  a great 
deal.  Bees’  nest  in  the  planks  at  the  side  of  the  house,  laid 
open  by  the  removal  of  one  of  them  for  the  purpose  of 
smoking  the  inmates  at  night  and  getting  the  honey.  Was 
induced  by  the  carpenter  to  go  up  on  the  ladder  to  see 
what  he  called  a curiosity.  Did  so,  and  got  stung  on  the 
chin.  ...  1 walked  on  to  meet  Hunt  with  Collins.  Met 
him,  with  two  Tuppers,  who  dined  with  us  off  hare.  All 
afterwards  saw  the  burning  of  the  bees,  and  tasted  the 
honey.  . . . Read  songs  in  the  Princess.  Have  greater  (if 
possible)  veneration  for  Tennyson. 

“ October  22nd. — Worked  in  the  warren  opposite  the  wall, 
and  got  on  well,  though  teased,  while  painting,  by  little 
Fanny,  who  persisted  in  what  she  called  ‘ tittling  ’ me.  . . . 
Hunt  proposed  painting  ‘for  a lark,’  the  door  of  a cupboard 
beside  the  fireplace.  Mentioned  it  to  the  landlady,  who  gave 
permission,  with  the  assurance  that  if  she  did  not  approve  of 
it  she  should  scrub  it  out.  Completed  it  jointly  about  two 
o’clock  in  the  morning.  . . . 

“ October  2 3rd. — Our  landlady’s  marriage  anniversary. 
Was  asked  by  her  some  days  back  for  the  loan  of  our  apart- 
ments to  celebrate  the  event.  ‘ If  we  were  not  too  high  they 
would  be  glad  to  see  us.’ 

“ Painted  on  the  wall ; the  day  very  dull.  A few  trees 
shedding  leaves  behind  me,  spiders  determinedly  spinning 
webs  between  my  nose  and  chin.  . . . Joined  the  farmers 
and  their  wives.  Two  of  them  spoke  about  cattle  and  the 
new  reaping-machine,  complaining,  between  times,  about  the 
state  of  affairs.  Supped  with  them ; derived  some  know- 
ledge of  carving  a chicken  from  watching  one  do  so.  Went 
to  bed  rather  late,  and  read  In  Memoriam , which  produced 
a refining  melancholy.  Landlady  pleased  with  painting  on 
cupboard.” 

Of  this  painting,  by  the  way,  my  uncle,  William  Millais, 


128  JOHN  EVERETT  MILLAIS  [l8si 

has  another  and  somewhat  different  tale  to  tell.  He  says : — 
“ Our  landlady,  Mrs.  B.,  held  artists  to  be  of  little  account, 
and  my  brother  exasperated  her  to  a degree  on  one  occasion. 
The  day  had  been  a soaking  wet  one.  None  of  us  had  gone 
out,  and  we  were  at  our  wits’  end  to  know  what’ to  do.  Jack, 
at  Hunt’s  suggestion,  thought  it  would  be  a good  joke  to 
paint  on  one  of  the  cupboard  doors.  There  were  two  — one 
on  either  side  of  the  fireplace.  Mrs.  B.  had  gone  to  market. 
On  coming  into  the  room  on  her  return,  and  seeing  what  had 
been  done  — a picture  painted  on  the  cupboard  door  — she 
was  furious;  the  door  had  only  lately  been  ‘so  beautifully 
grained  and  varnished.’  Hunt  in  vain  tried  to  appease  her. 
She  bounced  out  of  the  room,  saying  she  would  make  them 
pay  for  it. 

“ It  happened  on  the  following  day  that  the  Vicar  and 
a lady  called  upon  the  young  painters;  and  on  being  shown 
into  the  sitting-room,  Mrs.  B.  apologised  for  the  ‘ horrid  mess  ’ 
(as  she  called  it)  on  the  cupboard  door.  They  inquired  who 
had  done  it,  and  on  being  told  that  Mr.  Millais  was  the  cul- 
prit, the  lady  said  she  would  give  Mrs.  B.  in  exchange  for  the 
door  the  lovely  Indian  shawl  she  had  on ; so  when  the 
painters  came  in  from  their  work,  Mrs.  B.  came  up  cringingly 
to  my  brother  and  said  the  only  thing  he  could  do  was  to 
paint  the  other  cupboard  ! He  did  n’t  paint  the  other  door, 
but  I believe  Mrs.  B.  had  the  shawl.” 

And  now,  in  continuation  of  the  “ Diary,”  we  read : — 

“ October  24 th.  — Another  day,  exactly  similar  to  the 
previous.  Felt  disinclined  to  work.  Walked  with  Hunt 
to  his  place,  returned  home  about  eleven,  and  commenced 
work  myself,  but  did  very  little.  Read  Tennyson  and  Pat- 
more. The  spot  very  damp.  Walked  to  see  Charlie  about 
four,  and  part  of  the  way  to  meet  Hunt,  feeling  very 
depressed.  After  dinner  had  a good  nap,  after  which  read 
Coleridge  — some  horrible  sonnets.  In  his  Life  they  speak 
ironically  of  ‘ Christabel,’  and  highly  of  rubbish,  calling  it 
Pantomime. 

“ October  25 th.  — Much  like  the  preceding  day.  All  went 
to  Town  after  dinner;  called  at  Rossetti’s  and  saw  Madox 
Brown’s  picture  ‘ Pretty  Baa-lambs,’  which  is  very  beautiful. 
Rossetti  low-spirited  ; sat  with  him. 

“ October  26 th,  Sunday.  — Walked  out  with  Hunt.  Called 
upon  Woolner  and  upon  Mrs.  Collins  to  get  her  to  come 


EXTRACTS  FROM  DIARY 


1851] 


1 29 


and  dine  with  us;  unwell,  so  unsuccessful.  Felt  very 
cross  and  disputable.  Charlie  called  in  the  evening  ; took 
tea,  and  then  all  three  off  to  the  country  seat. 

“ October  27th.  — Dry  day.  Rose  later  than  the  others, 
and  had  breakfast  by  myself.  Painted  on  the  wall,  but  not 
so  well  ; felt  uncomfortable  all  day.  . . . 

“ October  28 t/i.  — My  man,  Young,  brought  me  a rat  after 
breakfast.  Began  painting  it  swimming,  when  the  governor 
made  his  appearance,  bringing  money,  and  sat  with  me 
whilst  at  work.  After  four  hours  rat  looked  exactly  like 
a drowned  kitten.  Felt  discontented.  Walked  with  parent 
out  to  see  Collins  painting  on  the  hill,  and  on,  afterwards, 
to  Young’s  house.  He  had  just  shot  another  rat  and  brought 
it  up  to  the  house.  Again  painted  upon  the  head,  and  much 
improved.  . . . My  father  and  myself  walked  on  to  see 
Hunt,  whose  picture  looks  sweet  beyond  mention. 

“ October  29 th.  — Cleaned  out  the  rat,  which  looked  like 
a lion,  and  enlarged  picture.  After  breakfast  began  ivy 
on  the  wall  ; very  cold,  and  my  feet  wet  through  ; at  inter- 
vals came  indoors  and  warmed  them  at  the  kitchen  fire. 
Worked  till  half-past  four ; brought  all  the  traps  in  and 
read  In  Memoriam. 

“ October  yo>th.  — Felt  uneasy  ; could  not  paint  out  of  doors, 
so  dug  up  a weed  in  the  garden  path  and  painted  it  in  the 
corner.  . . . Went  to  bed  early,  leaving  Hunt  up  reading 
Hooker. 

“ October  31  si.  — Splendid  morning.  . . . Painted  ivy  on 
the  wall,  and  got  on  a great  deal.  After  tea,  about  half- 
past ten,  went  to  see  powder-mill  man  (Young’s)  to  com- 
mission him  to  fetch  Hunt’s  picture  home.  Sat  in  their 
watch-house  with  him  and  his  brother,  who  eulogised  a cat, 
lying  before  the  fire,  for  its  uncommon  predilection  to  fasten 
on  dogs'  backs,  also  great  ratting  qualities.  Returned  home 
about  eleven  and  read  In  Memoriam.  Left  Hunt  up  reading 
Hooker. 

“ November  \th.  — Frightfully  cold  morning;  snowing. 
Determined  to  build  up  some  kind  of  protection  against  the 
weather  wherein  to  paint.  After  breakfast  superintended  in 
person  the  construction  of  my  hut  — made  of  four  hurdles,  like 
a sentry-box,  covered  outside  with  straw.  Felt  a ‘ Robinson 
Crusoe’  inside  it,  and  delightfully  sheltered  from  the  wind, 
though  rather  inconvenienced  at  first  by  the  straw,  dust,  and 
husks  flying  about  my  picture.  Landlady  came  down  to  see 

1—9 


130  JOHN  EVERETT  MILLAIS  [.sSr 

me,  and  brought  some  hot  wine.  Hunt  painting  obstinate 
sheep  within  call.  . . . This  evening  walked  out  in  the 
orchard  (beautiful  moonlight  night,  but  fearfully  cold)  with 
a lantern  for  Hunt  to  see  effect  before  finishing  background, 
which  he  intends  doing  by  moonlight. 

“ November  $ih. — Painted  in  my  shed  from  ivy.  Hunt 
at  the  sheep  again.  My  man  Young,  who  brought  another 

rat  caught  in  the  gin  and  little 
disfigured,  was  employed  by 
Hunt  to  hold  down  a wretched 
sheep,  whose  head  was  very 
unsatisfactorily  painted,  after 
the  most  tantalising  exhibition 
of  obstinacy.  Evening  passed 
off  much  as  others.  Read 
Browning’s  tragedy,  Blot  on  the 
Scutcheon , and  was  astonished 
at  its  faithfulness  to  Nature 
and  Shakespearian  perfectness. 
Mr.  Lewis,  the  clergyman  of 
the  adjoining  parish,  called,  and 
kindly  gave  us  an  invitation 
to  his  place  when  we  liked. 
Had  met  him  at  dinner  at  our 
parish  curate’s,  Mr.  Stapleton. 

“ November  6th.  — Beautiful 
morning;  much  warmer  than 
yesterday.  Was  advised  by 
Hunt  to  paint  the  rat,  but  felt 
disinclined.  After  much  inward 
argument  took  the  large  box 
containing  Ophelia’s  background  out  beside  Hunt,  who 
again  was  to  paint  the  sheep.  By  lunch  time  had  nearly 
finished  rat  most  successfully.  Hunt  employed  small  im- 
pudent boy  to  hold  down  sheep.  Boy  not  being  strong 
enough,  required  my  assistance  to  make  the  animal  lie  down. 
Imitated  Young’s  manner  of  doing  so,  by  raising  it  up  off 
the  ground  and  dropping  it  suddenly  down.  Pulled  an 
awful  quantity  of  wool  out  in  the  operation.  Also  painted 
ivy  in  the  other  picture. 

“ November  yih.  — After  breakfast  examined  the  rat  [in  the 
painting].  From  some  doubtful  feeling  as  to  its  perfect 
portraiture  determined  to  retouch  it.  Young  made  his  ap- 


“THE  HUGUENOT.”  1852 
First  idea 


1851] 


EXTRACTS  FROM  DIARY 


1 3 1 

pearance  apropos , with  another  rat,  and  (for  Hunt)  a new 
canvas  from  the  carrier  at  Kingston.  Worked  very  care- 
fully at  the  rat,  and  finally  succeeded  to  my  own  and 
everyone’s  taste.  Hunt  was  painting  in  a cattle-shed  from 
a sheep.  Letters  came  for  him  about  three.  In  opening 
one  we  were  most  surprised  and  delighted  to  find  the 
Liverpool  Academy  (where  his  ‘ Two  Gentlemen  of  Verona  ’ 
picture  is)  sensible  enough  to 
award  him  the  annual  prize 
of  P50.  He  read  the  good 
news  and  painted  on  unruffled. 

The  man  Young,  holding  a 
most  amicable  sheep,  expressed 
surprising  pleasure  at  the  for- 
tunate circumstance.  He  said 
he  had  seen  robins  in  the 
spring  of  the  year  fight  so 
fiercely  that  they  had  allowed 
him  to  take  them  up  in  his 
hands,  hanging  on  to  each 
other.  During  the  day  Hunt 
had  a straw  hut  similar  to 
mine  built,  to  paint  a moon- 
light background  to  the  fresh 
canvas.  Twelve  o’clock.  Have 
this  moment  left  him  in  it, 
cheerfully  working  by  a lantern 
from  some  contorted  apple 
tiee  ti unks,  washed  with  the  “the  huguenot.”  1S52 

phosphor  light  of  a perfect  Second  idea 

moon  — the  shadows  of  the 

branches  stained  upon  the  sward.  Steady  sparks  of  moon- 
struck dew.  Went  to  bed  at  two  o’clock. 

“ November  S th. — Got  up  before  Hunt,  who  never  went 
to  bed  till  after  three.  Painted  in  my  hut,  from  the  ivy, 
all  day.  After  dinner  Collins  went  off  to  town.  Hunt 
again  painting  out  of  doors.  Very  little  of  moonshine  for 
him.  . . . Advised  H.  to  rub  out  part  of  background,  which 
he  did. 

“ November  <^ih,  Sunday.  — Whilst  dressing  in  the  morning 
saw  F.  M.  Brown  and  William  Rossetti  coming  to  us  in  the 
avenue.  They  spent  the  day  with  us.  All  disgusted  with 
the  Royal  Academy  election.  . . . They  left  us  for  the  train, 


1 32  JOHN  EVERETT  MILLAIS  [rsSi 

for  which  they  were  too  late,  and  returned  to  sleep  here. 
Further  chatted  and  went  to  bed. 

“ November  1 1 th.  — Lay  thinking  in  bed  until  eleven  o’clock. 
Painted  ivy.  Worked  well;  Hunt  painting  in  the  same 
field;  sheep  held  down  by  Young. 

“ November  16th,  Sunday.  — To  church  with  Collins ; Hunt, 
having  sat  up  all  night  painting  out  of  doors,  in  bed.  After 
church  found  him  still  in  his  room ; awoke  him  and  had 
breakfast  with  him,  having  gone  without  mine  almost  entirely, 
feeling  obliged  to  leave  it  for  church.  Hunt  and  self  went 
out  to  meet  brother  William,  whom  we  expected  to  dinner. 
Met  him  in  the  park.  He  saw  Hunt’s  picture  for  the  first 
time,  and  was  boundless  in  admiration  ; also  equally  eulogised 
my  ivy-covered  wall.  All  three  walked  out  before  dinner. 
. . . In  what  they  called  the  Round-house  saw  a chicken 
clogged  in  a small  tank  of  oil.  Young  extricated  it,  and, 
together  with  engine-driver’s  daughter,  endeavoured  (fruit- 
lessly) to  get  the  oil  off.  Left  them  washing  fowl,  and  strolled 
home. 

“ November  17I/1. — Small  stray  cat  found  by  one  of  the 
men,  starved  and  almost  frozen  to  death.  Saw  Mrs.  Barnes 
nursing  it  and  a consumptive  chicken  ; feeding  the  cat  with 
milk.  Painted  at  the  ivy.  Evening  same  as  usual.” 

Some  further  details  are  supplied  in  the  following  letter  : — 


To  Mr.  Combe. 

“Worcester  Park  Farm, 

“ November  17th,  1851. 

“ My  dear  Combe,  — Doubtless  you  have  been  wondering 
whether  it  is  my  intention  ever  to  let  you  have  your  own 
property  [‘The  Dove  ’ picture].  We  hope  to  return  almost 
immediately,  when  I shall  touch  that  which  requires  a little 
addition,  and  directly  send  it  on  to  you,  a letter  preceding  it 
to  let  you  know.  Hunt  has  gained  the  prize  at  Liverpool 
for  the  best  picture  in  the  exhibition  there.  I he  cold  has 
become  so  intense  that  we  fear  it  is  impossible  to  further 
paint  in  the  open  air.  We  have  had  little  straw  huts  built, 
which  protect  us  somewhat  from  the  wind,  and  therein  till 
to-day  have  courageously  braved  the  weather. 

“Carlo  is  still  daily  labouring  at  the  shed,  Hunt  nightly 
working  out  of  doors  in  an  orchard  painting  moonlight 


COLLINS’  LAST  PICTURE 


1 33 


J 851  ] 

(employed  also  in  the  daytime  on  another  picture),  and  myself 
engaged  in  finishing  another  background  (an  ivy-covered 
wall).  There  is  one  consolation  which  strengthens  our 
powers  of  endurance  — necessary  for  the  next  week.  It  is 
to  behold  the  array  of  cases,  which  are  the  barns  of  our 
summer  harvest,  standing  in  our  entrance  hall.  . . . 

“ Very  faithfully  yours, 

“ John  Everett  Millais.” 


At  this  time  Charles  Collins  was  engaged  on  the  back- 
ground for  a picture,  the  subject  of  which  he  had  not  yet 
settled  upon.  He  got  as  far  as  placing  upon  the  canvas 
an  old  shed  with  broken  roof  and  sides,  through  which  the 
sunlight  streamed;  with  a peep  outside  at  leaves  glittering 
in  the  summer  breeze  ; and  at  this  he  worked  week  after 
week  with  ever  varying  ideas  as  to  the  subject  he  should 
ultimately  select.  At  last  he  found  a beautiful  one  in  the 
legend  of  a French  peasant,  who,  with  his  family,  outcast 
and  starving,  had  taken  refuge  in  the  ruined  hut  and  were 
ministered  to  by  a saint.  The  picture,  however,  was  never 
finished.  Poor  Collins  gave  up  painting  in  despair  and 
drifted  into  literature  ; * and  when  the  end  came,  Holman 
Hunt,  who  was  called  in  to  make  a sketch  of  his  friend,  was 
much  touched  to  find  this  very  canvas  (then  taken  off  the 
strainers)  lying  on  the  bed  beside  the  dead  man.  The 
tragedy  of  vanished  hopes  ! 

But  I must  now  return  to  the  “ Diary.” 

“ November  18///.  — Little  cat  died  in  the  night,  also 
chicken.  Painted  ivy.  In  the  afternoon  walked  to  Ewell 
to  procure  writing-paper ; chopped  wood  for  our  fire,  and 
found  it  warming  exercise. 

“ November  igt/i.  — Fearfully  cold.  Landscape  trees  upon 
my  window-panes.  After  breakfast  chopped  wood,  and  after 
that  painted  ivy.  . . . See  symptoms  of  a speedy  finish  to 
my  background.  After  lunch  pelted  down  some  remaining 
apples  in  the  orchard.  Read  Tennyson  and  the  Thirty-nine 
Articles.  Discoursed  on  religion. 

“ November  20 th.  — Worked  at  the  wall  ; weather  rather 
warmer.  . . . Evening  much  as  usual. 

* Charles  Collins  was  a regular  contributor  to  Household  Words , but  is  chiefly 
known  by  his  Cruise  on  Wheels , a work  which  met  with  success. 


i34  JOHN  EVERETT  MILLAIS  [is5i 

“ November  2 1 st.  — Change  in  the  weather — cloudy  and 
drizzling.  All  three  began  work  after  breakfast.  Brother 
William  came  about  one  o’clock.  After  lunch  found  some- 
thing for  him  to  paint.  Left  him  to  begin,  and  painted  till 
four,  very  satisfactorily. 

“ November  22nd. — All  four  began  work  early.  William 
left  at  five,  promising  to  come  again  on  Monday.  . . . After 
dinner  Hunt  and  Collins  left  for  London,  the  former  about 
some  inquiries  respecting  an  appointment  to  draw  for 
Layard,  the  Nineveh  discoverer.  After  they  were  (rone,  I 
wrote  a very  lonq-  letter  to  Mrs.  Combe.” 

The  letter  is  perhaps  worth  insertion  here,  as  showing  the 
writer’s  attitude  towards  Romanism,  which  at  that  time 
he  was  supposed  to  favour,  and  as  an  indication  of  the 
general  design  of  his  picture,  “ The  Huguenot.”  It  ran 
thus  : — 

To  Airs.  Combe. 

“ Worcester  Park  Farm, 

“ November  2 2 mi,  1851. 

“My  dear  Mrs.  Combe,  — My  two  friends  have  just  gone 
to  town,  leaving  me  here  all  alone.  I dine  to-morrow 
(Sunday)  with  a very  old  friend  of  mine  — Colonel  Lempriere 
— resident  in  the  neighbourhood,  or  else  should  go  with 
them.  Mr.  Combe’s  letter  reached  me  as  mine  left  for 
Oxford.  Assure  him  our  conversation  as  often  reverts  to 
him  as  his  thoughts  turn  to  us  in  pacing  the  quad.  The 
associates  he  derides  have  but  little  more  capacity  for  paint- 
ing than  as  many  policemen  taken  promiscuously  out  of  a 
division. 

“ I have  no  Academy  news  to  tell  him,  and  but  little  for 
you  from  home.  Layard,  the  winged-bull  discoverer,  requires 
an  artist  with  him  (salary  two  hundred  a year)  and  has 
applied  for  one  at  the  School  of  Design,  Somerset  House. 
Hunt  is  going  to-night  to  see  about  it,  as,  should  there  be 
intervals  of  time  at  his  disposal  for  painting  pictures,  he 
would  not  dislike  the  notion.  One  inducement  to  him  would 
be  that  there,  as  at  Jerusalem,  he  could  illustrate  Biblical 
history.  Should  the  appointment  require  immediate  filling, 
he  could  not  take  it,  as  the  work  he  is  now  about  cannot  be 
finished  till  March. 

“ My  brother  was  with  us  to-day,  and  told  me  that  Dr. 


iSsO 


“THE  HUGUENOT ! 


1 35 


Hesse  of  Leyton  College,  understood  that  I was  a Roman 
Catholic  (having  been  told  so),  and  that  my  picture  of 
‘ The  Return  of  the  Dove  to  the  Ark  ’ was  emblematical  of 
the  return  of  all  of  us  to  that  religion — a very  convenient 
construction  to  put  upon  it ! I have  no  doubt  that  likewise 
they  will  turn  the  subject  I am  at  present  about  to  their 
advantage.  It  is  a scene  supposed  to  take  place  (as  doubt- 
less it  did)  on  the  eve  of  the  massacre  of  St.  Bartholomew’s 
Day.  I shall  have  two  lovers  in  the  act  of  parting,  the 
woman  a Papist  and  the  man  a Protestant.  The  badge  worn 
to  distinguish  the  former  from  the  latter  was  a white  scarf  on 
the  left  arm.  Many  were  base  enough  to  escape  murder  by 
wearing  it.  The  girl  will  be  endeavouring  to  tie  the  hand- 
kerchief round  the  man’s  arm,  so  to  save  him;  but  he,  hold- 
ing his  faith  above  his  greatest  worldly  love,  will  be  softly 
preventing  her.  I am  in  high  spirits  about  the  subject,  as  it 
is  entirely  my  own , and  I think  contains  the  highest  moral. 
It  will  be  very  quiet,  and  but  slightly  suggest  the  horror  of  a 
massacre.  The  figures  will  be  talking  against  a secret-looking 
garden  wall,  which  I have  painted  here. 

“ Hunt’s  moonlight  design  is  from  the  Revelation  of  St. 
John,  chapter  iii.,  20th  verse,  ‘ Behold  I stand  at  the  door  and 
knock:  if  any  man  hear  My  voice,  and  open  the  door,  I will 
come  in  to  him,  and  will  sup  with  him,  and  he  with  Me.’  It 
is  entirely  typical,  as  the  above.  A figure  of  our  Saviour  in 
an  orchard  abundant  in  fruit,  holding  in  one  hand  a light 

(further  to  illustrate  the  passage  ‘ I am  the  Light  of  the 

world’),  and  the  other  hand  knocking  at  a door  all  over- 
grown by  vine  branches  and  briars,  which  will  show  how 
rarely  it  has  been  opened.  I intend  painting  a pendant  from 
the  latter  part  of  the  same,  'And  will  sup  with  him,  and  he 
with  Me.’  It  is  quite  impossible  to  describe  the  treatment  I 
purpose,  so  will  leave  you  to  surmise. 

“ Now  to  other  topics.  We  are  occasionally  visited  by  the 
clergyman  of  the  adjoining  parish,  a Mr.  Lewis.  He  was  at 
Oriel,  and  knows  Mr.  Church,  Marriot,  and  others  that  I 

have  met.  He  is  a most  delightful  man  and  a really  sound 

preacher,  and  a great  admirer  and  deplorer  of  Newman. 

“ I cannot  accompany  ‘ The  Dove  ’ to  the  ‘ Clarendon,’  as 
I have  un-get-off-ably  promised  to  spend  Xmas  with  the 
family  I feast  with  to-morrow,  Captain  Lempriere’s.  He  is 
from  Jersey,  and  knew  me  when  living  there,  and  I would 
not  offend  him. 


1 36  JOHN  EVERETT  MILLAIS 


“ Our  avenue  trees  snow  down  leaves  all  day  long,  and 
begin  to  show  plainly  the  branches.  Collins  still  fags  at  the 
shed,  Hunt  at  the  orchard,  and  I at  the  wall.  Right  glad 
we  shall  all  be  when  we  are  having  our  harvest  home  at 
Hanover  Terrace,  which  we  hope  to  do  next  Tuesday  week. 

“ Yours  most  faithfully 

“ (at  twelve  o’clock), 

“John  Everett  Millais. 


“ Please  send  me  a letter,  or  else  I shall  be  jealous.” 

Millais  having  in  this  letter 
stated  his  conception  of  “ The 
Hu  guenot,”  it  may  be  as  well, 
perhaps,  to  describe  here  its 
actual  genesis. 

After  finishing  the  back- 
ground for  “ Ophelia,”  he  began 
making  sketches  of  a pair  of 
lovers  whispering  by  a wall, 
and  having  announced  his  in- 
tention of  utilising  them  in  a 
picture,  he  at  once  commenced 
painting  the  background,  mere- 
ly leaving  spaces  for  the  figures. 
As  may  be  gathered  from  what 
has  been  already  said,  both  he 
and  Hunt  discussed  together 
every  picture  which  either  of 
them  had  in  contemplation ; 
and,  discoursing  on  the  new 
subject  one  evening  in  Septem- 
ber, Millais  showed  his  pencil- 
drawings  to  Hunt,  who  strongly  objected  to  his  choice, 
saying  that  a simple  pair  of  lovers  without  any  powerful 
story,  dramatic  or  historical,  attaching  to  the  meeting  was 
not  sufficiently  important.  It  was  hackneyed  and  wanting 
in  general  interest.  “ Besides,”  he  quietly  added,  “ it  has 
always  struck  me  as  being  the  lovers’  own  private  affair,  and 
I feel  as  if  we  were  intruding  on  so  delicate  an  occasion  by 
even  looking  at  the  picture.  I protest  against  that  kind  of 
Art.”  Millais,  however,  was  unconvinced,  and  stuck  to  his 
point,  saying  the  subject  would  do  quite  well ; at  any  rate,  he 
should  go  on  working  at  “his  wall.' 


‘THE  HUGUENOT.” 
Third  idea 


1852 


COLLINS’  ASCETICISM 


1 37 


1851] 

In  the  evening,  when  the  three  friends  were  gathered 
together,  poor  Charlie  Collins  came  in  for  more  “chaff” 
than  his  sensitive  nature  could  stand.  He  had  refused  some 
blackberry  tart  which  had  been  served  at  dinner,  and  Millais, 
knowing  that  he  was  very  fond  of  this  dish,  ridiculed  his 
“mortifying  the  flesh  ” and  becoming  so  much  of  an  ascetic. 
It  was  bad  for  him,  he  said,  and  his  health  was  suffering  in 
consequence;  to  which  he  humorously  added,  that  he  thought 
Collins  kept  a whip  upstairs  and  indulged  in  private  flagel- 
lations. At  last  Collins  re- 
treated to  his  room,  and  Millais, 
turning:  to  Hunt,  who  had  been 
quietly  sketching  the  while, 
said,  “ Why  didn’t  you  back 
me  up?  You  know  these  un- 
healthy views  of  religion  are 
very  bad  for  him.  We  must 
try  and  get  him  out  of  them.” 

“ I intend  to  leave  them  alone,” 
replied  the  peaceful  Hunt; 

“ there ’s  no  necessity  for  us 
to  copy  him.”  A pause. 

“Well,”  said  Millais,  “what 
have  you  been  doing  all  this 
time  while  I have  been  pitching 
into  Charlie  ? ” 

Hunt  showed  him  some 
rough  sketches  he  had  been 
making  — some  of  them  being 
the  first  ideas  for  his  famous 
picture,  “ The  Light  of  the 
World.” 

Millais  was  delighted  with 
some  other  loose  sheets  on  which  sketches  had  been  made, 
asked  what  thev  were  for. 

j 

“Well,”  replied  Hunt,  producing  a drawing,  “you  will  see 
now  what  I mean  with  regard  to  the  lack  of  interest  in  a 
picture  that  tells  only  of  the  meeting  or  parting  of  two  lovers. 
This  incident  is  supposed  to  have  taken  place  during  the 
Wars  of  the  Roses.  The  lady,  belonging  to  the  Red  Roses, 
is  within  her  castle ; the  lover,  from  the  opposite  camp,  has 
scaled  the  walls,  and  is  persuading  her  to  fly  with  him.  She 
is  to  be  represented  as  hesitating  between  love  and  duty. 


“THE  HUGUENOT.”  1852 
Fourth  idea 


the  subject,  and  looking  at 


1 38  JOHN  EVERETT  MILLAIS 


You  have  then  got  an  interesting  subject,  and  I would  paint 
it  with  an  evening  sky  as  a background.” 

“ Oil,”  exclaimed  Millais,  delighted,  “ that’s  the  very  thing 
for  me  ! I have  got  the  wall  already  painted,  and  need  only 
put  in  the  figures.” 

“But,”  said  Hunt,  “this  is  a castle  wall.  Your  back- 
ground won’t  do.” 

“ That  does  n’t  matter,”  replied  Millais,  “ I shall  make  one 

of  the  lovers  belonodno-  to  the 

OO 

Red  and  the  other  to  the  White 
Rose  faction;  or  one  must  be 
a supporter  of  King  Charles 
and  the  other  a Puritan.” 

After  much  discussion  Millais 
suddenly  remembered  the  opera 
of  The  Hugenots , and  be- 
thought him  that  a most 
dramatic  scene  could  be  made 
from  the  parting  of  the  two 
lovers.  He  immediately  began 
to  make  small  sketches  for 
the  grouping  of  the  figures, 
and  wrote  to  his  mother  to 
go  at  once  to  the  British  Mu- 
seum to  look  up  the  costumes. 

Probably  more  sketches  were 
made  for  this  picture  and  for 
the  “ Black  Brunswicker  ” than 
for  any  others  of  his  works. 
I have  now  a number  of  them 
in  my  possession,  and  there 

Fifth  and  final  composition  for  the  picture  lllUSt  have  bed!  lliaiiy  mOie. 

They  show  that  his  first  idea 
was  to  place  other  figures  in  the  picture  — two  priests  holding 
up  the  crucifix  to  the  Huguenot,  whose  sweetheart  likewise 
adds  her  persuasions.  Again,  other  drawings  show  a priest 
on  either  side  of  the  lovers,  holding  up  one  of  the  great 
candles  of  the  Roman  Catholic  Church,  and  the  Protestant 
waving  them  back  with  a gesture  of  disapproval.  These 
ideas,  however,  were  happily  discarded  — probably  as  savour- 
ing too  much  of  the  wholly  obvious  — and  the  artist  wisely 
trusted  to  the  simplicity  of  the  pathos  which  marked  the 
character  of  his  final  decision. 


THE  HUGUENOT.  1852 

By  permission  of  H . Graves  and  Son 


) 


1851] 


EXTRACTS  FROM  DIARY 


1 41 

It  will  be  seen  then  that  the  picture  was  not  (as  has  been 
publicly  stated)  the  outcome  of  a visit  to  Meyerbeer’s  opera 
of  The  Huguenots ; though  some  time  after  Millais’  decision 
he  and  Hunt  went  to  the  opera  to  study  the  pose  and 
costumes  of  the  figures. 

And  now  for  some  final  extracts  from  the  “ Diary.” 

“ November  2377/,  Sunday.  — Went  to  morning  church  ; felt 
disgusted  with  the  world,  and  all  longing  for  worldly  glory 
going  fast  out  of  me.  Walked,  miserable,  to  Ewell  to  spend 
the  day  with  my  old  friends  the  Lemprieres,  who  were  at 
Sir  John  Reid’s,,  opposite.  Called  there,  and  was  received 
most  kindly.  From  there  went  on  to  afternoon  church.  On 

our  way  met  Mr.  and  Mrs.  B , my  old  flame.  Wished 

myself  anywhere  but  there;  all  seemed  so  horribly  changed; 
the  girl  I knew  so  well  calling  me  ‘ Mr.  Millais  ’ instead  of 

‘John,’  and  I addressing  ‘ Fanny  ’ as  ‘Mrs.  13 .’  She 

married  a man  old  enough  to  be  her  father;  he,  trying  to 
look  the  young  man,  with  a light  cane  in  his  hand.  Walked 
over  his  grounds  (which  are  very  beautiful)  and  on  to  the 
new  church,  wherein  the  captain  joined  us,  and  shook  hands 
most  cordially  with  me.  A most  melancholy  service  over, 

all  walked  home.  Mrs.  B distant,  and  with  her  mother. 

Mr.  B did  not  accompany  us;  found  him  at  the  captain’s 

house  — an  apparently  stupid  man,  plain  and  bald.  Was 

perfectly  stupefied  by  surprise  at  Mrs.  B asking  me  to 

make  a little  sketch  of  her  ugly  old  husband.  They  left, 
she  making,  at  parting,  a bungling  expression  of  gladness 
at  having  met  me.  Walked  over  the  bouse  and  gardens 
(Ewell),  where  I had  spent  so  many  happy  months.  . . . 
Had  a quiet  dinner  — the  captain,  Mrs.,  Miss  and  Harry.  In 
the  evening  drew  Fifeguard  on  horseback  [‘ Shaw,  the  Fife- 
guardsman,’  shown  at  the  1898  Exhibition]  for  little  Herbert, 
and  something  for  Emily.  Eeft  them  with  a lantern  (the 
night  being  dark)  to  meet  my  companions  at  the  station. 
Got  there  too  early,  and  paced  the  platform,  ruminating 
sorrowfully  on  the  changes  since  I was  there  last.  . . . 
Reached  home  wet  through.  Good  fire,  dry  shoes,  and  bed. 

“ November  24 th.  — Painted  on  brick  wall.  Mr.  Taylor 
and  his  son  (an  old  acquaintance  of  mine  at  Ewell),  in  the 
army,  and  six  feet,  came  to  see  me.  Both  he  and  his  father 
got  double  barrels;  pheasant  in  son’s  pocket.  They  saw  my 
pictures,  expressed  pleasure,  and  in  leaving  presented  me 
with  cock  bird.  Lemprieres  came.  The  parents  and  Miss 


1 42  JOHN  EVERETT  MILLAIS  [,85i 

thought  my  pictures  beautiful.  I walked  with  them  to  the 
gate  at  the  bottom  of  the  park,  and  there  met  Emma  and 

Mrs.  B out  of  breath.  They  had  driven  after  the 

captain,  also  to  see  my  landscape.  Offered  to  show  them 
again,  but  the  father  would  not  permit  the  trouble.  Parted, 
promising  to  spend  Christmas  with  them.  Tried  to  resume 
painting.  All  then  took  usual  walk.  Hunt,  during  day,  had 
a letter  containing  offer  for  his  picture  of  ‘ Proteus.’  He 
wrote  accepting  it.  . . . 

“ November  28///.  — William  came  and  worked  at  his 
sketch,  and  Sir  John  Reid  called  to  see  my  pictures.  Were 
both  highly  pleased.  Took  them  to  see  Hunt’s  and  Collins’. 

Mr.  B officious  and  revelling  in  snobbiness  at  having 

such  distinguished  persons  at  the  farm. 

“ November  29 th.  — All  painted  after  breakfast  — Hunt  at 
grass;  myself,  having  nearly  finished  the  wall,  went  on  to 
complete  stalk  and  lower  leaves  of  Canterbury-bell  in  the 
corner.  Young,  who  was  with  Hunt,  said  he  heard  the  stag- 
hounds  out ; went  to  discover,  and  came  running  in  in  a state 
of  frenzied  excitement  for  us  to  see  the  hunt.  Saw  about 
fifty  riders  after  the  hounds,  but  missed  seeing  the  stag,  it 
having  got  some  distance  ahead.  Moralised  afterwards, 
thinking  it  a savage  and  uncivilised  sport. 

“ November  30///,  Sunday.  — All  rose  early  to  get  in  time 
for  train  at  Ewell,  to  spend  the  day  at  Waddon.  Were  too 
late,  so  walked  into  Epsom,  expecting  there  to  meet  a train. 
Found  nothing  before  past  one.  Walked  towards  the  downs, 
and  to  church  at  eleven,  where  heard  very  good  sermon. 
Collins  so  pious  in  actions  that  he  was  watched  by  kind- 
looking man  opposite.  Very  wealthy  congregation.  . . . 
Walked  afterwards  to  Mrs.  Hodgkinson’s,  but  found  she  was 
too  unwell  to  sit  with  us,  so  dined  with  her  husband;  capital 

dinner.  Sat  with  Mrs.  H in  her  bedroom,  leaving  them 

smoking  downstairs,  and  took  leave  about  half-past  nine,  Mr. 
Hodgkinson  walking  with  us  to  station. 

“ December  1 st.  — All  worked  ; bitter  cold.  William  left  us 
after  dinner.  Hunt  read  a letter  from  purchaser  of  his 
picture;  some  money  in  advance  enclosed  in  the  same,  and 
an  abusive  fragment  of  a note  upon  our  abilities.  Felt 
stupidly  ruffled  and  bad-tempered.  . . . 

“ December  yrd. — Hunt  . . . painted  indoors,  and  from 
the  window  worked  at  some  sheep  driven  opposite  ; I still 
at  dandelions  and  groundsel.  Kitten  most  playful  about  me  ; 


i85i] 


EXTRACTS  FROM  DIARY 


lay  in  my  lap  whilst  painting,  but  was  aroused  by  a little 
field-mouse  rustling  near  the  box.  Made  a pounce  upon,  but 
failed  in  catching  it.  A drizzling  rain  part  of  the  day.  Cut 
a great  deal  of  wood,  to  get  warm.  . . . Returned,  and 
found  a clerk  from  Chancery  Lane  lawyers  in  waiting  upon 
me,  who  came  to  induce  me  to  attend  chambers  and  swear 
to  my  own  signature  upon  Mr.  Drury’s  will.  Told  him  I 
could  not  attend  earlier  than  next  week. 

“ December  \th.  — Painted  the  ground.  Hunt  expected  Sir 
George  Glynn  (to  see  the  pictures),  who  came,  accompanied 
by  his  curate  and  another  gentleman,  about  the  middle  of 
the  day,  and  admired  them  much.  Suggested  curious  altera- 
tions to  both  Collins’  and  Hunt’s;  that  C.  should  make 
the  ‘Two  Women  Grinding  at  the  Mill  ’ in  an  Arabian  tent, 
evidently  supposing  that  the  subject  was  biblical  instead  of 
in  futurity.  After  they  were  gone  Hunt’s  uncle  and  aunt 
came,  both  of  whom  understood  most  gratifyingly  every 
object  except  my  water-rat,  which  the  male  relation  (when 
invited  to  guess  at  it)  eagerly  pronounced  to  be  a hare. 
Perceiving  by  our  smile  that  he  had  made  a mistake,  a rabbit 
was  next  hazarded,  after  which  I have  a faint  recollection  of 
a dog  or  cat  being  mentioned  by  the  spouse,  who  had  brought 
with  her  a sponge-cake  and  bottle  of  sherry,  of  which  we 
partook  at  luncheon.  Mutual  success  and  unblemished 
happiness  was  whispered  over  the  wine,  soon  after  which 
they  departed  in  a pony-chaise.  Laughed  greatly  over  the 
day,  H.  and  self.  . . . 

“ December  5 th . — This  day  hope  to  entirely  finish  my  ivy 
background.  Went  down  to  the  wall  to  give  a last  look. 
The  day  mild  as  summer ; raining  began  about  twelve. 
Young  came  with  a present  of  a bottle  of  catsup.  William 
made  his  appearance  about  the  same  time,  and  told  us  of  the 
brutal  murdering  going  on  again  in  Paris.  He  did  not  paint. 
Young  brought  a dead  mole  that  was  ploughed  up  in  the 
field  I paint  in.  Though  somewhat  acquainted  with  the  form 
of  the  animal,  was  much  surprised  at  the  size  and  strength 
of  its  fore-hands.  Finished,  and  chopped  wood.  . . . In 
the  evening  Will  slept,  H.  wrote  letters,  C.  read  the 
Bible,  and  self  Shakespeare;  and,  later,  walked  out  with 
H.  in  the  garden,  it  being  such  a calm,  warm  night. 
Requested  landlady  to  send  in  bill,  intending  to  leave  to- 
morrow. Had  much  consultation  about  the  amount  neces- 
sary for  her,  in  consideration  of  the  many  friends  entertained 


i44  JOHN  EVERETT  MILLAIS  [is52 

by  us.  Felt,  with  Collins,  a desire  to  sink  into  the  earth  and 
come  up  with  pictures  in  our  respective  London  studios.” 

On  the  following  day  Millais  returned  to  Gower  Street, 
his  backgrounds  being  now  completed  ; set  to  work  at  once 
on  the  figures  in  the  two  pictures,  Miss  Siddal  (afterwards 
Mrs.  D.  G.  Rossetti)  posing  as  the  model  for  “ Ophelia.” 
Mr.  Arthur  Hughes  has  an  interesting  note  about  this  lady 
in  The  Letters  of  D.  G.  Rossetti  to  William  Allingham. 
He  says:  — 

“ Deverell  accompanied  his  mother  one  day  to  a milliner’s. 
Through  an  open  door  he  saw  a girl  working  with  her  needle  : 
he  got  his  mother  to  ask  her  to  sit  to  him.  She  was  the 
future  Mrs.  Rossetti.  Millais  painted  her  for  his ‘Ophelia’ 
— wonderfully  like  her.  She  was  tall  and  slender,  with  red, 
coppery  hair  and  bright  consumptive  complexion,  though  in 
these  early  years  she  had  no  striking  signs  of  ill-health.  She 
had  read  Tennyson,  having  first  come  to  know  something 
about  him  by  finding  one  or  two  of  his  poems  on  a piece  of 
paper  which  she  brought  home  to  her  mother  wrapped  round 
a pat  of  butter.  Rossetti  taught  her  to  draw  ; she  used  to  be 
drawing  while  sitting  to  him.  Her  drawings  were  beautiful, 
but  without  force.  They  were  feminine  likenesses  of  his  own.” 

Miss  Siddal  had  a trying  experience  whilst  acting  as  a 
model  for  “ Ophelia.”  In  order  that  the  artist  might  get 
the  proper  set  of  the  garments  in  water  and  the  right 
atmosphere  and  aqueous  effects,  she  had  to  lie  in  a large 
bath  filled  with  water,  which  was  kept  at  an  even  temperature 
by  lamps  placed  beneath.  One  day,  just  as  the  picture  was 
nearly  finished,  the  lamps  went  out  unnoticed  by  the  artist, 
who  was  so  intensely  absorbed  in  his  work  that  he  thought 
of  nothing  else,  and  the  poor  lady  was  kept  floating  in  the 
cold  water  till  she  was  quite  benumbed.  She  herself  never 
complained  of  this,  but  the  result  was  that  she  contracted 
a severe  cold,  and  her  father  (an  auctioneer  at  Oxford)  wrote 
to  Millais,  threatening  him  with  an  action  for  £^o  damages 
for  his  carelessness.  Eventually  the  matter  was  satisfactorily 
compromised.  Millais  paid  the  doctor’s  bill ; and  Miss  Siddal, 
quickly  recovering,  was  none  the  worse  for  her  cold  bath. 

D.  G.  Rossetti  had  already  fallen  in  love  with  her,  struck 
with  her  “unworldly  simplicity  and  purity  of  aspect”  — 
qualities  which,  as  those  who  knew  her  bear  witness,  Millais 
succeeded  in  conveying  to  the  canvas — but  it  was  not  until 
i860  that  they  married. 


SUCCESS  OF  “OPHELIA” 


1 45 


1851] 

About  the  year  1S73  “Ophelia”  was  exhibited  at  South 
Kensington  ; and  Millais,  going  one  day  to  have  a look  at 
it,  noticed  at  once  that  several  of  the  colours  he  had  used 
in  1S51  had  gone  wrong — notably  the  vivid  green  in  the 
water-weed  and  the  colouring  of  the  face  of  the  figure. 
He  therefore  had  the  picture  back  in  his  studio,  and  in 
a short  time  made  it  bloom  again,  as  we  see  it  to-day,  as 
brilliant  and  fresh  as  when  first  painted.  This  is  one  of  the 
great  triumphs  of  his  Pre-Raphaelite  days.  The  colour, 
substance,  and  surface  of  his  pictures  have  remained  as 
perfect  as  the  day  they  were  put  on.  Nothing  in  recent 
Art  I venture  to  say,  exceeds  the  richness,  yet  perfect 
harmony,  of  the  colours  of  Nature  in  “ Ophelia  ” and  “The 
Blind  Girl  ” ; and  the  same  thing  may  be  said  of  “ The 
Proscribed  Royalist,”  “ The  Black  Brunswicker,”  and  the 
women’s  skirts  in  “The  Order  of  Release”;  whilst  the 
man’s  doublet  in  “ The  Huguenot”  and  the  woman's  dress  in 
“ Mariana”  are  perhaps  the  most  daring  things  of  the  kind 
ever  attempted. 

Perhaps  the  greatest  compliment  ever  paid  to  “ Ophelia,” 
as  regards  its  truthfulness  to  Nature,  is  the  fact  that  a certain 
Professor  of  Botany,  being  unable  to  take  his  class  into  the 
country  and  lecture  from  the  objects  before  him,  took  them 
to  the  Guildhall,  where  this  work  was  being  exhibited,  and 
discoursed  to  them  upon  the  flowers  and  plants  before  them, 
which  were,  he  said,  as  instructive  as  Nature  herself. 

Mr.  Spielmann  is  enthusiastic  in  his  praise  of  the  picture. 
He  speaks  of  it  as  “ one  of  the  greatest  of  Millais’  concep- 
tions, as  well  as  one  of  the  most  marvellously  and  completely 
accurate  and  elaborate  studies  of  Nature  ever  made  by  the 
hand  of  man.  . . . The  robin  whistles  on  the  branch,  while 
the  distraught  Ophelia  sings  her  own  death-dirge,  just  as  she 
sinks  beneath  the  water  with  eyes  wide  open,  unconscious 
of  the  danger  and  all  else.  It  is  one  of  the  proofs  of  the 
greatness  of  this  picture  that,  despite  all  elaboration,  less 
worthy  though  still  superb  of  execution,  the  brilliancy  of 
colour,  diligence  of  microscopic  research,  and  masterly 
handling,  it  is  Ophelia’s  face  that  holds  the  spectator,  rivets 
his  attention,  and  stirs  his  emotion.” 

1 he  picture  passed  successively  through  the  hands  of  Mr. 
Farrer,  Mr.  B.  \\  indus,  and  Mr.  Fuller  Maitland,  before 
it  came  into  the  possession  of  Mr.  Henry  Tate,  to  whose 
generosity  the  public  are  indebted  for  its  addition  to  the 

1 — 10 


JOHN  EVERETT  MILLAIS 


1 46 


[1851 


National  Gallery  of  British  Art.  It  was  exceedingly  well 
engraved  by  Mr.  I.  Stevenson  in  1866. 

In  the  1852  Exhibition,  when  both  the  “Ophelia”  and 
“ The  Huguenot  ” were  exhibited,  there  was  another  beautiful 
“ Ophelia  ” by  Millais’  friend,  Arthur  Hughes,  who  is  good 
enough  to  send  me  the  following  note  about  the  two 
pictures  : — 

“ One  of  the  nicest  things  that  I remember  is  connected 
with  an  ‘Ophelia’  I painted,  that  was  exhibited  in  the 
Academy  at  the  same  time  as  his  [Millais’]  own  most 
beautiful  and  wonderful  picture  of  that  subject.  Mine  met 
its  fate  high  up  in  the  little  octagon  room  ; * but  on  the 
morning  of  the  varnishing,  as  I was  going  through  the  first 
room,  before  I knew  where  I was,  Millais  met  me,  saying, 
‘Aren’t  you  he  they  call  Cherry?’  (my  name  in  the  school). 
I said  I was.  Then  he  said  he  had  just  been  up  a ladder 
looking  at  my  picture,  and  that  it  gave  him  more  pleasure 
than  any  picture  there,  but  adding  also  very  truly  that  I had 
not  painted  the  right  kind  of  stream.  He  had  just  passed 
out  of  the  Schools  when  I began  in  them,  and  I had  a most 
enormous  admiration  for  him,  and  he  always  looked  so 
beautiful  — tall,  slender,  but  strong,  crowned  with  an  ideal 
head,  and  (as  Rossetti  said)  ‘with  the  face  of  an  angel.’  He 
could  not  have  done  a kinder  thing,  for  he  knew  I should 
be  disappointed  at  the  place  my  picture  had.” 

“The  Huguenot”  was  exhibited  with  the  following  title 
and  quotation  in  the  catalogue : “ A Huguenot,  on  St. 
Bartholomew’s  Day  refusing  to  shield  himself  from  danger 
by  wearing  the  Roman  Catholic  badge.  (See  The  Protestant 
Reformation  in  France , vol.  ii.,  p.  352.)  When  the  clock 
of  the  Palais  de  Justice  shall  sound  upon  the  great  bell 
at  daybreak,  then  each  good  Catholic  must  bind  a strip 
of  white  linen  round  his  arm  and  place  a fair  white  cross 
in  his  cap.”  (The  Order  of  the  Due  de  Guise.) 

Mr.  Stephens  says : — “ When  ‘ A Huguenot  ’ was  exhibited 
at  the  Royal  Academy,  crowds  stood  before  it  all  day  long. 
Men  lingered  there  for  hours,  and  went  away  but  to  return. 
It  had  clothed  the  old  feelings  of  men  in  a new  garment, 
and  its  pathos  found  almost  universal  acceptance.  This 
was  the  picture  that  brought  Millais  to  the  height  of  his 
reputation.  Nevertheless,  even  ‘A  Huguenot’  did  not 
silence  all  challengers.  There  were  critics  who  said  that 

* Commonly  known  to  artists  of  the  period  as  “ The  Condemned  Cell.  ' 


WOMAN  IN  ART 


1851] 


M7 


the  man’s  arm  could  not  reach  so  far  round  the  lady's  neck, 
and  there  were  others,  knowing  little  of  the  South,  who 
carped  at  the  presence  of  nasturtiums  in  August.  It  was 
on  the  whole,  however,  admitted  that  the  artist  had  at 
last  conquered  his  public,  and  must  henceforth  educate 
them.” 

The  picture  is  said  to  have  been  painted  under  a com- 
mission from  a Mr.  White  (a  dealer)  for  70  5°;  but,  as  a 
fact,  Millais  received  A"2  5°  for  it,  which  was  paid  to  him 
in  instalments,  and  in  course  of  time  the  buyer  gave  him 
^"50  more,  because  he  had  profited  much  by  the  sale  of 
the  engraving.  The  dealers  no  doubt  made  immense  sums 
out  of  the  copyrights  alone  of  “The  Huguenot,”  “The 
Black  Brunswicker,”  and  “The  Order  of  Release”;  while  — 
as  to  “ The  Huguenot  ” at  least  — the  poor  artist  had  to  wait 
many  months  for  his  money  and  to  listen  meanwhile  to  a 
chorus  of  fault-finding  from  the  pens  of  carping  scribblers, 
whose  criticism,  as  is  now  patent  to  all  the  world,  proved 
only  their  ignorance  of  the  subject  on  which  they  were 
writing.  In  turn,  every  detail  of  the  picture  was  objected 
to  on  one  score  or  another,  even  the  lady  herself  being 
remarked  upon  as  “very  plain.”  No  paper,  except  Punch 
and  the  Spectator  [William  Rossetti],  showed  the  slightest 
glimmering  of  comprehension  as  to  its  pathos  and  beauty, 
or  foresaw  the  hold  that  it  eventually  obtained  on  the  heart 
of  the  people.  But  Tom  Taylor,  the  Art  critic  of  Punch 
at  that  time,  had  something  more  than  an  inkling  of  this,  as 
may  be  seen  in  his  boldly-expressed  critique  in  Punch , vol.  i. 
of  1852,  pp.  216,  217.  The  women  in  “Ophelia”  and  “The 
Huguenot”  were  essentially  characteristic  of  Millais’  Art, 
showing  his  ideal  of  womankind  as  gentle,  lovable  creatures ; 
and,  whatever  Art  critics  may  say  to  the  contrary,  this  aim  — 
the  portrayal  of  woman  at  her  best  — is  one  distinctly  of  our 
own  national  school.  As  Millais  himself  once  said,  “ It  is 
only  since  Watteau  and  Gainsborough  that  woman  has  won 
her  right  place  in  Art.  The  Dutch  had  no  love  for  women, 
and  the  Italians  were  as  bad.  The  women’s  pictures  by 
Iitian,  Raphael,  Rembrandt,  Van  Dyck,  and  Velasquez  are 
magnificent  as  works  of  Art;  but  who  would  care  to  kiss 
such  women?  Watteau,  Gainsborough,  and  Reynolds  were 
needed  to  show  us  how  to  do  justice  to  woman  and  to 
reflect  her  sweetness.” 

A sweeping  statement  like  this  is,  of  course,  open  to 


148 


JOHN  EVERETT  MILLAIS  [isSi 

exceptions — there  are  many  notable  examples  in  both 
French  and  Italian  Art  in  which  woman  receives  her  due  — 
but  in  the  main  it  is  undoubtedly  true. 

“The  Huguenot”  was  the  first  of  a series  of  four  pictures 
embracing  “ The  Proscribed  Royalist,”  “The  Order  of 
Release,”  and  “ The  Black  Brunswicker,”  each  of  which 
represents  a more  or  less  unfinished  story  of  unselfish  love, 
in  which  the  sweetness  of  woman  shines  conspicuous. 

The  figure  of  the  Huguenot  (as  I have  said  before)  was 
painted  for  the  most  part  from  Mr.  Arthur  (now  General) 
Lempriere — an  old  friend  of  the  family — and  afterwards 
completed  with  the  aid  of  a model. 

Of  his  sittings  to  Millais  during  1853,  Major-General 
Lempriere  kindly  sends  me  the  following  : — “It  was  a short 
time  before  I got  my  commission  in  the  Royal  Engineers 
in  the  year  1853  (when  I was  about  eighteen  years  old)  that 
I had  the  honour  of  sitting  for  his  famous  picture  of  1 The 
Huguenot.’  If  I remember  rigdit,  he  was  then  living  with 
his  father  and  mother  in  Bloomsbury  Square.  I used  to 
go  up  there  pretty  often  and  occasionally  stopped  there. 
His  father  and  mother  were  always  most  kind. 

“ After  several  sittings  I remember  he  was  not  satisfied 
with  what  he  had  put  on  the  canvas,  and  he  took  a knife 
and  scraped  my  head  out  of  the  picture,  and  did  it  all  again. 
He  always  talked  in  the  most  cheery  way  all  the  time  he 
was  painting,  and  made  it  impossible  for  one  to  feel  dull 
or  tired.  I little  thought  what  an  honour  was  being  con- 
ferred on  me,  and  at  the  time  did  not  appreciate  it,  as  I 
have  always  since. 

“ I remember,  however,  so  well  his  kindness  in  giving 
me,  for  having  sat,  a canary-bird  and  cage,  and  also  a 
water-colour  drawing  from  his  portfolio  (‘  Attack  on  Kenil- 
worth Castle  ’),  which,  with  several  others  of  his  early 
sketches  which  I have,  were  exhibited  at  the  Royal  Academy 
of  Arts  after  his  death. 

“ I was  abroad,  off  and  on,  for  some  thirty  years  after  I 
got  my  commission,  and  almost  lost  sight  of  my  dear  old 
friend.  He,  in  the  meantime,  had  risen  so  high  in  his 
profession  that  I felt  almost  afraid  of  calling  on  him.  One 
morning,  however,  being  near  Palace  Gate,  I plucked  up 
courage,  and  went  to  the  house  and  gave  my  card  to  the 
butler,  and  asked  him  to  take  it  in  to  Sir  John,  which 
he  did  ; and  you  can  imagine  my  delight  when  Sir  John 


A PATRON  OF  ART 


149 


1S51] 

almost  immediately  came  out  of  his  studio  in  his  shirt- 
sleeves, straight  to  the  front  door,  and  greeted  me  most 
heartily. 

“ I was  most  deeply  touched,  about  a fortnight  before  he 
died,  at  his  asking  to  see  me,  and  when  I went  to  his  bed- 
side at  his  putting  his  arms  round  my  neck  and  kissing  me." 

A lovely  woman  (Miss  Ryan)  sat  for  the  lady  in  “The 
Huguenot,”  Mrs.  George  Hodgkinson,  the  artist’s  cousin, 
taking  her  place  upon  occasion  as  a model  for  the  left  arm 
of  the  figure.  Alas  for  Miss  Ryan ! her  beauty  proved  a 
fatal  gift:  she  married  an  ostler,  and  her  later  history  is  a 
sad  one.  My  father  was  always  reluctant  to  speak  of  it, 
feeling  perhaps  that  the  publicity  he  had  given  to  her  beauty 
might  in  some  small  measure  have  helped  (as  the  saying  is) 
to  turn  her  head. 

The  picture  was  the  first  of  many  engraved  by  his  old 
friend,  Mr.  T.  O.  Barlow,  r.  a.  , and  exceedingly  well  it  was 
done.  It  eventually  became  the  property  of  Mr.  Miller,  of 
Preston,  and  now  belongs  to  his  son.  As  this  gentleman 
bought  several  of  my  father’s  works,  and  is  so  frequently 
mentioned  hereafter,  the  description  of  him  by  Madox 
Brown  in  D.  G.  Rossetti’s  Letters  may  be  of  interest : — 
“ This  Miller  is  a jolly,  kind  old  man,  with  streaming  white 
hair,  fine  features,  and  a beautiful  keen  eye  like  Mulready’s. 
A rich  brogue  (he  was  Scotch,  not  Irish),  a pipe  of  Cavendish, 
and  a smart  rejoinder,  with  a pleasant  word  for  every  man, 
woman,  and  child  he  met,  are  characteristic  of  him.  His 
house  is  full  of  pictures,  even  to  the  kitchen.  Many  pictures 
he  has  at  all  his  friends’  houses,  and  his  house  at  Bute  is 
also  filled  with  his  inferior  ones.  His  hospitality  is  some- 
what peculiar  of  its  kind.  His  dinner,  which  is  at  six,  is 
of  one  joint  and  vegetables,  without  pudding.  Bottled  beer 
for  drink.  I never  saw  any  wine.  After  dinner  he  instantly 
hurries  you  off  to  tea,  and  then  back  again  to  smoke.  He 
calls  it  meat-tea,  and  boasts  that  few  people  who  have  ever 
dined  with  him  come  back  again.”  Mr.  W.  M.  Rossetti 
describes  him  as  “ one  of  the  most  cordial,  large-hearted,  and 
lovable  men  I ever  knew.  He  was  so  stronu  in  belief  as 
to  be  a sceptic  as  regards  the  absence  of  belief.  I once 
heard  him  say,  in  his  strong  Scotch  accent,  ‘ An  atheist,  if 
such  an  animal  ever  really  existed.’  What  the  supposititious 
animal  would  do,  I forget.” 

Amongst  other  work  of  Millais  this  year  was  the  retouch- 


1 5o  JOHN  EVERETT  MILLAIS  [1851 

ing  of  “ Cymon  and  Iphigenia,”  a picture  done  by  him  in 
his  seventeenth  year,  and  now  vastly  improved  by  a fresh 
impression  of  colour  and  a further  Pre-Raphaelite  finish  of 
the  flowers  in  the  foreground. 

“ Memory,”  a little  head  of  the  Marchioness  of  Ripon, 
was  also  painted  this  winter.  A more  important  work,  how- 
ever, is  “ The  Bridesmaid,”  for  the  head  of  which  Mrs. 
Nassau  Senior  sat.  “ The  Return  of  the  Dove  ” was  also 
finished  and  sent  to  its  owner  along  with  the  following 
letter : — - 

To  Mr.  Combe. 

“ 83  Gower  Street,  Bedford  Square, 

“ December  gth,  1851. 

“My  dear  Mr.  Combe, — I have  touched  your  picture, 
‘The  Return  of  the  Dove,’ at  last;  and  hope  it  will  arrive 
safely. 

“ We  came  home  on  Saturday  night.  My  brother  brought 
the  pictures  on  Monday  evening,  one  of  them  not  having 
dried  completely.  We  have  all  fortunately  escaped  colds, 
which  (considering  the  great  exposure  we  have  undergone) 
is  something  to  be  thankful  for.  My  first  two  days  of 
London  have  again  occasioned  that  hatred  for  the  place  I 
had  upon  returning  to  it  last  year.  I had  a headache 
yesterday,  and  another  about  to  come  now. 

“You  will  perceive  in  some  lights  a little  dulness  on  the 
surface  of  ‘ The  Dove’s’  background.  It  will  all  disappear 
when  it  is  varnished,  which  must  not  be  for  some  little  time. 
It  is  almost  impossible  to  paint  a picture  without  some  bloom 
coming  on  the  face  of  it. 

“You  recollect  it  was  arranged  between  Charley  and  my- 
self that  it  should  hang  nearest  the  window,  beside  Hunt’s. 
Please  let  it  be  a little  leaned  forward. 

“ My  mother  is  talking  with  Hunt  approvingly  of  the  works 
I have  just  had  home,  and  I cannot  write  more  without 
jumbling  what  they  are  saying  in  this. 

“In  great  haste, 

“ Most  sincerely  yours, 

“John  Everett  Millais. 

“ ‘ The  Dove  ’ will  be  sent  off  to  you  to-morrow  (Wednes- 
day) by  rail.  The  reason  for  hanging  the  picture  nearer  the 
light  is  that  it  is  much  darker  than  Collins’  ‘Nun.’  ” 

O 


CORRESPONDENCE 


1851] 


1 5 1 


Another  letter  addressed  to  Mrs.  Combe,  and  referring  to 
the  sale  of  “ Ophelia,”  carries  us  to  the  end  of  this  year. 


To  Mrs.  Combe. 

“ 83  Gower  Street, 

“ December  12  th,  1851. 

“My  dear  Mrs.  Combe, — I enclose  a little  book  written 
by  Miss  Rossetti.  I promised  to  send  it  to  you  a long 
while  ago,  but  have  only  recollected  it  now.  I think  you 
will  greatly  admire  it.  My  remembrance  of  it  is  but  slight, 
not  having  read  it  for  several  years.  I was  glad  to  hear 
that  ‘ The  Dove  ’ arrived  safely,  and  that  it  gains  upon 
acquaintance. 

“ Mr.  Farrar  bought  the  ‘ Ophelia  ’ the  day  before  yesterday 
for  three  hundred  guineas.  The  day  previous,  a Mr.  White, 
a purchaser,  was  so  delighted  with  it  that  he  half  closed  with 
me.  I expect  he  will  call  to-morrow  to  say  that  he  will  have 
it,  when  he  will  be  much  disappointed  to  hear  of  its  sale. 

“Wilkie  Collins  is  writing  a Christmas  book  for  which 
I have  undertaken  to  make  a small  etching. 

“ Hunt’s  prize  picture  of  ‘Proteus’  is  sold  to  a gentleman 
at  Belfast  — which  sets  him  (H.)  up  in  opulence  for  the 
winter.  I saw  Charley  last  night.  He  is  just  the  same  as 
ever  — so  provokingly  quiet.  I fancy  you  have  rather  mis- 
taken my  feelings  towards  him;  not  a whit  of  our  friendship 
has  diminished.  I was  with  him  last  night,  but  little  or 
nothing  he  said.  I played  backgammon  with  the  matron. 

“ Let  me  know  what  you  think  of  the  ‘ Rivulets.’  . . . 

“In  haste,  yours  sincerely, 

“John  Everett  Millais.” 


CHAPTER  V 


1852—1853 

The  volunteer  movement  — Reminiscences  of  Turner  — Meeting  with  Thackeray  — 
Millais  proposes  to  paint  “Romeo  and  Juliet”  — Goes  to  “George  Inn”  at 
Hayes  — Begins  painting  “The  Proscribed  Royalist” — Arthur  Hughes  on  his 
sittings  — Millais  in  the  hunting  field  — “ The  Order  of  Release  ” — Models  for 
this  picture  — Funeral  of  the  Duke  of  Wellington  — Amusing  letter  to  Mr. 
Hodgkinson  — Millais’  first  expedition  to  Scotland  — With  the  Ruskins  to  North- 
umberland and  thence  to  Callander  — Their  life  in  the  North  — Discussion  on 
architecture  — Dr.  Acland — -The  Free  Kirk  in  1852 — Meeting  with  Gambart 
and  Rosa  Bonheur  — Millais’  comic  sketch-book  — He  is  slighted  by  the 
Academy — Foreboding  on  the  election  day — He  is  made  an  A.R.A. 

FROM  the  first  day  of  1852  down  to  the  opening  of  the 
Royal  Academy  Millais  continued  to  work  away  at 
the  figures  in  “The  Huguenot”  and  “Ophelia,”  devoting 
all  his  spare  time  to  pictures  of  smaller  importance.  His 
life  at  this  period  may  be  gathered  from  the  following 
letters,  in  which  some  reference  to  historical  events  invites 
a word  of  explanation. 

A series  of  revolutions  in  France,  commencing  in  1848, 
culminated  in  the  famous  coup  d'etat  of  December,  1S51, 
when  for  the  first  time  universal  suffrage  was  established, 
and  as  the  result,  Prince  Louis  Napoleon  was  re-elected 
President  of  the  Republic  for  ten  years  certain.  He  soon 
let  them  know  what  that  meant.  No  sooner  was  he  installed 
in  office  than  he  banished  into  exile  the  distinguished  general 
officers  who  were  opposed  to  him,  disbanded  the  National 
Guard  and  appointed  others  in  their  place,  dismissed  eighty- 
three  members  of  the  late  legislative  assembly,  and  finally 
put  an  end  to  the  liberty  of  the  Press.  These  high-handed 
proceedings  threw  all  England  into  a ferment.  The  news- 
papers raised  a howl  of  execration  against  the  tyrant;  and 
the  government,  taking  alarm,  established  the  Channel  Fleet 
and  called  into  existence  a number  of  volunteer  rifle  corps 
to  aid  in  the  national  defence.  A glimpse  at  what  followed 
will  be  found  in  the  correspondence. 

182 


1852] 


CORRESPONDENCE 


1 55 


To  Mr.  Combe. 

“ 83  Gower  Street, 

“ January  g//i,  1852. 

“Dear  Mr.  Combe, — Believe  me,  I have  made  many 
struggles  to  write  to  you,  but  somehow  or  other  1 have 
felt  stupid  and  incompetent  directly  my  hand  clenched  the 
pen.  I fear  it  is  my  normal  state  now,  but  feel  something 
must  be  written. 

“ I have  been  working  most  determinedly  since  Christmas, 
but  (curiously)  with  little  effect.  I have  given  up  all  visiting, 
so  I cannot  be  accused  on  that  score  of  giving  little  evidence 
of  progress. 

“ Next  week  I hope  to  sail  into  a kind  of  artistic  trade- 
wind,  which  will  carry  me  on  to  the  Exhibition.  . . . The 
whole  of  this  day  I have  been  drawing  from  two  living 
creatures  embracing  each  other. 

“ In  looking  over  this,  I see  so  many  ' I haves  ’ that  I feel 
inclined  to  throw  it  into  the  fire  and  cab  off  to  the  Great 
Western  rail  and  on  to  Oxford,  to  show  you  that  I have  not 
forgotten  you.  My  Christmas  was  a very  leisurely  time.  I 
went  into  the  country  the  day  before,  and  returned  the  day 
after  in  a state  of  great  depression.  Both  Hunt  and  Charley 
have  been,  I fancy,  much  in  the  same  condition  as  myself  in 
regard  to  working.  The  latter  has  not  even  yet  determined 
upon  his  composition.  I doubt  whether  he  will  have  time  to 
complete  it  for  the  Academy.  Hunt  came  back  from  Oxford 
most  elaborately  delighted.  I was  astonished  at  the  quantity 
of  visiting  he  managed  in  the  time. 

“They  say  that  Turner  has  left  ,£200,000  — some  estimate 
it  at  double  that  amount  — which  I very  much  doubt.  I hear 
from  good  authority  that  a great  portion  of  this  money  is 
going  towards  some  houses  for  decayed  limners,  which  is  very 
creditable  to  Mr.  T.  Probably  some  of  the  worst  living 
daubers  are  looking  forward  to  the  time  when  they  are  in- 
capable of  spoiling  more  canvases,  and  are  lodged  in  the 

I urner  Almshouses.  C has  no  chance,  for  they  must 

be  oil-painters. 

“ I hope  my  garrulous  capacity  will  return  to  me  soon, 
when  I intend  writing  to  Mrs.  Pat.  Remember  me  to  her, 
and  believe  me 

“ Most  sincerely  yours, 

“John  E.  Millais.” 


l56 


JOHN  EVERETT  MILLAIS 


[1852 


My  father  had  but  a slight  acquaintance  with  Turner, 
though  my  mother  was  among  the  few  of  her  sex  who  were 
ever  permitted  to  enter  the  great  landscape  painter’s  house. 
She  knew  him  well,  and  from  her  I obtained  some  interesting 
notes,  which  I give  in  her  own  words:  “ I used  frequently  to 
go  and  see  Turner  and  his  pictures,  and  though  very  few 
ladies  were  ever  allowed  to  enter  his  doors,  he  was  very  kind 
to  young  artists.  He  lived  like  a hermit  in  a great  lonely 

house  in  Queen  Anne 

Street;  his  walls  hung 
with  many  of  his  own 
pictures,  which  he  re- 
fused to  part  with.  He 
would  not  sell  these  on 
any  account  whatever, 
and  one  day  he  showed 
me  a blank  cheque  which 
had  been  sent  to  him 
to  fill  in  to  any  amount 
he  chose  if  he  would 
sell  one  of  his  pictures, 
but  he  laughed  at  the 
idea  and  sent  back  the 
cheque  immediately. 

“ The  glass  over  many 
of  his  works  was  broken, 
and  large  pieces  of  brown 
paper  were  pasted  over 
the  cracks,  for  he  would  not  be  at  the  expense  of  new  ones. 
Mr.  Frith  rightly  described  the  studio  when  he  said  ‘ the 
walls  were  almost  paperless,  the  roof  far  from  weatherproof, 
and  the  whole  place  desolate  in  the  extreme  ’ ; whilst  Munro  # 
used  to  say  that  the  very  look  of  the  place  was  enough  to 
give  a man  a cold. 

“Withal  he  had  a great  sense  of  humour,  and  when  telling 
a story  would  put  his  finger  to  the  side  of  his  nose,  and  look 
exactly  like  ‘ Punch.’ 

“ Apropos  of  his  physiognomy,  he  always  resisted  any 
attempt  to  make  a likeness  of  him;  but  one  day  after  dinner 


STUDIES  FOR  “THE  ROYALIST.”  1853 


* Munro  of  Novar,  who  lived  in  Hamilton  Place,  possessed  several  of  Turner’s 
best  works,  for  which  he  had  paid  sums  not  exceeding  ,£200.  Amongst  them  was 
one  of  the  artist’s  masterpieces,  “ The  Grand  Canal  at  Venice,”  which,  after  Mr. 
Munro’s  death,  was  purchased  by  Lord  Dudley  for  nearly  g^Sooo. 


REMINISCENCES  OF  TURNER 


1852] 


l57 


at  the  house  of  a friend.  Count  d’Orsay,  a clever  artist  made 
an  excellent  drawing  of  him  drinking  his  coffee  ; but  this  was 
done  without  Turner’s  knowledge,  and  is,  1 believe,  one  of 
the  few  portraits  of  him  now  extant. 

“ He  disliked  society,  and  was  intimate  with  very  few 
people,  his  principal  friends  being  Mr.  Bicknell,  of  Denmark 
Hill,  and  Munro,  of  Novar,  though  at  times  he  frequented 
the  Athenaeum  Club. 

“ After  a while  he  took  an  intense  dislike  to  his  home  in 
Queen  Anne  Street,  and  only  Munro  knew  where  he  removed 


MILLAIS  ON  THE  WAY  TO  PAINT  “THE  ROYALIST” 
Sketch  by  William  Millais 


to.  Before  this,  however,  he  spent  much  time  with  Mr. 
Fawkes,  of  Farnley  Hall,  near  Feeds,  for  whom  he  painted 
many  pictures.  I have  stayed  there,  and  examined  the  ex- 
quisite water-colour  landscapes  he  did  there,  as  well  as  a 
large  portfolio  of  birds’  eggs  and  feathers,  also  in  water- 
colours, most  beautifully  finished. 

“ Turner  had  a fancy  for  architecture,  but  the  lodges  which 
he  planned  at  Farnley  are  of  a sort  of  heavy  Greek  design, 
and  not  quite  a success. 

“ His  one  pleasure  in  the  days  when  I knew  him  was 
driving  himself  about  the  country  ; but  he  was  evidently  not 
accustomed  to  horses,  as  he  paid  no  attention  to  them,  being 
too  much  engrossed  in  admiring  the  landscape,  and  in  conse- 
quence, one  day  Mr.  Fawkes’  family,  who  were  committed  to 


1 58  JOHN  EVERETT  MILLAIS  [1852 

his  tender  mercies,  found  themselves  sitting  in  the  middle 
of  the  road  with  the  trap  on  the  top  of  them. 

“ Turner  told  me  that  the  way  in  which  he  studied  clouds 
was  by  taking  a boat,  which  he  anchored  in  some  stream,  and 
then  lay  on  his  back  in  it,  gazing  at  the  heavens  for  hours, 
and  even  days,  till  he  had  grasped  some  effect  of  light  which 
he  desired  to  transpose  to  canvas. 

“ No  one  was  admitted  to  his  house  in  Oueen  Anne  Street 
unless  specially  invited.  There  was  a sort  of  little  iron  grille 
in  the  centre  of  the  front  door,  through  which  the  old  house- 
keeper used  to  look  and  see  who  was  there. 

“ As  an  example  of  the  rarity  of  visitors,  the  late  Lord 

Lansdowne,  who  was  a great 
lover  of  Art  and  a friend  of 
Turner’s,  told  me  that  after 
receiving  no  answers  to  his 
letters  he  resolved  to  beard  the 
lion  in  his  den.  He  therefore 
went  and  knocked  at  the  door, 
when  a shock-head  appeared 
at  the  iron  grating,  and  its 
owner  called  out,  1 Cats’-meat, 
I suppose?  ’ ‘Yes,  cats’-meat,’ 
answered  his  lordship,  and 
squeezed  himself  in.* 

“ After  leaving  Queen  Anne 
Street,  Turner  seems  to  have 
taken  a fancy  to  a little  old-fashioned  inn  near  Cheyne 
Walk,  Chelsea.  It  was  kept  by  a widow,  and  he  asked 
if  he  might  be  allowed  to  live  there.  On  her  inquiring 
as  to  who  he  was,  he  said  to  her,  ‘What  is  your  name?’ 
to  which  she  replied,  ‘Mrs.  Brown.’  ‘Well,’  said  Turner, 
‘ I 'm  Mr.  Brown.’  In  this  house  he  remained  for  some 
years,  visiting  only  his  friend  Munro  and  the  Athenaeum 
Club. 

“ At  last,  one  day  he  became  seriously  ill,  and  it  was  only 
by  his  constantly  calling  out  for  Lady  Eastlake  (the  wife  of 
the  President  of  the  Royal  Academy),  and  on  her  being  sent 
for,  that  his  identity  became  known.” 


MILLAIS  AT  DINNER.  1853 
By  William  Millais 


* The  Marquis  of  Lansdowne  was  a man  of  great  benevolence  and  culture. 
At  his  table  Millais  and  his  wife  constantly  dined,  and  there  they  met  all  the 
literary  and  artistic  celebrities  of  the  day.  He  gave  exquisite  entertainments,  and 
after  dessert  always  called  in  the  Italian  cook  to  compliment  him  on  the  feast. 


1852] 


CORRESPONDENCE 


159 


Returning  now  to  the  correspondence,  I find  the  following 
letter : — 


To  Mr.  Combe. 


“83  Gower  Street, 

“ February  5 th , 1852. 

“ My  dear  Mr.  Combe,  — Don't  be  alarmed  at  this  mighty 
circular,  and  think  that  the  French  have  already  landed. 
They  have  not  come  here  yet;  but,  to  guard  against  such 
an  awful  event,  the  gentlemen  of  London  are  arming  them- 
selves and  forming  rifle  clubs  ; and  those  who  cannot  give 
their  personal  assistance  are  aiding  us  by  subscriptions  for 
the  purpose  of  furnishing  rifles  to  those  who  cannot  afford 
them,  yet  are  willing  to  join  in  the  service  of  their  country 
— clerks  and  the  like.  My  governor  is  on  the  Committee, 
and  my  brother  and  self  have  joined.  Several  very  in- 
fluential men  are  at  the  head  of  it.  A number  of  ladies 
are  getting  up  subscriptions,  and  ‘the  smallest  contributions 
will  be  most  thankfully  received.’  In  the  City  there  are  a 
thousand  double-barrelled  riflemen,  composed  of  the  gentle- 
men of  the  Stock  Exchange.  I am  sure  you  will  see  that 
such  measures  are  stringent  upon  all  Englishmen,  and  excuse 
my  troubling  you  on  such  a subject. 

“ Faithfully  yours, 

“John  Millais. 

“ P.  S.  — The  advertisement  of  our  club  has  appeared  three 
times  in  The  Times , and  we  already  muster  upwards  of  two 
hundred  gentlemen." 


Amongst  those  whom  he  saw  much  of  at  this  period,  and 
to  whom  he  was  greatly  attached,  were  his  cousins  George 
Hodgkinson  and  his  wife  Emily.  He  frequently  paid  them 
Saturday-to-Monday  visits,  when  he  was  working  in  London, 
during  the  years  1851-54.  He  also  corresponded  pretty 
regularly  with  Mrs.  Hodgkinson,  who  has  most  kindly  placed 
her  letters  at  my  disposal. 


To  Mrs.  Combe. 

“83  Gower  Street, 

“ March  6th,  18  c;  2. 

1 Mv  dear  Mrs.  Combe, — I promised  some  time  back  to 
write  you  a letter.  Pardon  me,  for  I am  a wretched  corres- 


1 60  JOHN  EVERETT  MILLAIS  [,s52 

pondent.  I am  just  now  working  so  hard  that  I am  glad 
to  escape  anything  like  painting,  but  I confess,  writing  is 
almost  as  difficult  a thing  with  me. 

“ I have  very  lately  made  the  acquaintance  of  Mr. 
Thackeray,  the  author  of  lranity  Fair.  He  called  un- 
expectedly upon  me  — not  to  see  my  picture,  he  said,  but 
to  know  me.  I have  returned  his  call,  and  find  him  a 
most  agreeable  man.  Mr.  Pollen  and  his  brother  also 
have  paid  me  a visit,  accompanied  by  Mr.  Dean.  Pollen’s 


SKETCH  OF  MILLAIS  PAINTING  THE  BACKGROUND  OF  “THE  ROYALIST” 

By  William  Millais 


brother  is  a good  judge  of  painting,  which  is  a rare  thing 
in  our  days. 

“ I am  getting  on  slowly,  but  I hope  surely.  Ophelia’s 
head  is  finished,  and  the  Huguenot  is  very  nearly  complete; 
the  Roman  Catholic  girl  is  but  sketched  in.  I am  waiting 
for  a young  lady  who  has  promised  me  to  sit  for  the  face,  but 
is  going  to  undergo  an  operation  on  her  throat,  which  will 
prevent  her  doing  so  for  a fortnight  or  more.  ...  I rarely 
see  Hunt  or  Carlo,  as  they,  like  myself,  stay  at  home  in 
the  evenings  and  go  to  rest  early,  so  that  they  may  rise 
likewise.  I believe  they  are  progressing  with  their  work, 
but  I daresay  you  know  more  of  them  than  I do. 

“ Yours  most  trul v, 

“John  Everett  Millats.” 


CORRESPONDENCE 


1852] 


1 6 1 


To  Mr.  Combe. 

“83  Gower  Street, 

“March,  1S52. 

“ My  dear  Mr.  Combe,  — Recklessly  I commence  this 
letter,  without  the  least  knowledge  of  what  is  to  follow. 
This  night  I promised  Hunt  to  spend  the  evening  with 
him,  but  am  restrained  by  the  immensity  of  the  distance, 
feeling  rather  tired  from  a long  walk  we  took  together  on 
Sunday,  to  Mr.  Windus,  the  owner  of  all  the  celebrated 
pictures  of  the  late  William  Turner,  r.  a.  He  has  some 


DINNER  AT  THE  “GEORGE  INN,"  HAYES.  1853 
Sketched  by  William  Millais 


of  the  most  valuable  works  in  the  world  — upwards  of  fifty 
of  Turner’s  most  excellent  paintings,  some  of  which  are 
valued  at  fifteen  hundred  pounds,  and  amongst  his  collection 
he  has  several  of  mine  — one  large  and  some  small  — besides 
drawings.  Some  day,  when  you  are  in  town,  1 must  take 
you  there.  It  is  really  a treat  to  see  the  house  alone.  The 
furniture  is  of  the  most  magnificent  kind,  and  the  rooms 
are  open  to  the  public,  l think,  twice  a week.  It  is  at 
Tottenham,  about  seven  miles  from  London. 

“ Farrer  has  sent  the  picture  of  ‘Mariana’  to  Edinburgh, 
to  gratify  the  Caledonian  curiosity,  those  people  having  ex- 
pressed a wish  to  see  some  of  the  Pre-Raphaelite  pictures. 
I am  continually  receiving  Scotch  papers  with  frightfully 
long  criticisms,  a vast  quantity  of  praise  and,  of  course, 

i — ii 


162  JOHN  EVERETT  MILLAIS  [l8s2 

advice.  To-day  I have  purchased  a really  splendid  lady's 
ancient  dress  — all  flowered  over  in  silver  embroidery  — and 
I am  going  to  paint  it  for  4 Ophelia.’  You  may  imagine  it 
is  something  rather  good  when  I tell  you  it  cost  me,  old  and 
dirty  as  it  is,  four  pounds. 

“ 4 The  Huguenot  ’ I have  been  working  at  to-day,  but 
not  very  satisfactorily,  having  been  disturbed  all  the  after- 
noon. 

44  The  Rifle  Club  is  getting  on  splendidly.  They  have 
taken  rooms  in  the  Strand,  and  are  increasing  rapidly  in 
numbers.  All  the  country  clubs  are  joining;  so  ultimately 
it  will  become  a very  prodigious  assembly.  At  present  the 
rooms  they  have  are  but  offices  in  which  they  have  the  pro- 
posed uniform — grey  turned  up  with  green.  The  costume 
will  be  drawn  in  the  Illustrated  News  of  next  week.  When 
the  corps  is  regularly  formed,  it  is  likely  (as  most  of  the 
members  are  private  gentlemen  and  well-off)  that  there  will 
be  some  place  for  members  from  the  country  to  meet  and 
dine,  and  reading-rooms  for  the  accommodation  of  the  whole 
body. 

I begin  to  feel  tired  at  the  sight  of  paints,  having  worked 
without  intermission  for  ten  months.  This  year  I hope  to 
enjoy  the  summer  without  a millstone  of  a picture  hanging 
about  my  neck.  The  subject  I intend  doing  will  not  require 
much  out-of-door  painting  — nothing  but  a sheet  of  water  and 
a few  trees  — a bit  of  flooded  country,  such  as  I have  seen 
near  you  at  Whitham. 

44  Yours  most  sincerely, 

“ John  Everett  Millais.” 


To  the  same. 

“S3  Gower  Street, 

“March  3 is/,  1S52. 

44  Mv  dear  Mr.  Combe,  — Many  thanks  for  your  kind  wish 
for  my  visiting  you  after  Easter.  I am  partly  under  an  en- 
gagement to  accompany  a friend  to  Paris  should  the  weather 
lie  favourable.  With  regard  to  4 The  Huguenot  ’ picture,  I 
am  happy  to  say  I sold  it  to  a gentleman,  the  very  morning 
after  you  and  Mrs.  Pat  called,  for  two  hundred  and  fifty 
pounds.  I have  finished  another  picture,  and  have  only 
to  paint  the  skirt  of  Ophelia’s  dress,  which  will  not,  I think. 


1852] 


CORRESPONDENCE 


16 

take  me  more  than  Saturday.  I have  every  hope  of  their 
being  placed  in  very  good  positions,  the  principal  hanger, 
Mr.  Leslie,  having  called  twice  to  see  them,  each  time 
expressing  great  admiration. 

“ In  great  haste,  most  sincerely  yours, 

“ John  E.  Millais.” 


To  the  same. 

“ 83  Gower  Street, 

“ Sunday,  April  18 th,  1852. 

“My  dear  Mr.  Combe,  — Forgive  my  not  having  an- 
swered your  letter  sooner.  Ever  since  the  sending  in  of  the 
pictures  I have  been  running  about  London,  calling,  and 
taking  walks  into  the  country.  You  ask  me  to  describe  the 
dance  of  Mrs.  Collins.  I truly  wish  that  you  had  been  there. 
It  was  a delightful  evening.  Charlie  [Collins]  never  got 
beyond  a very  solemn  quadrille,  though  he  is  an  excellent 
waltzer  and  polka  dancer.  Poor  Mrs.  C.  was  totally 
dumb  from  a violent  influenza  she  unfortunately  caught  that 
very  afternoon.  She  received  all  her  guests  in  a whisper 
and  a round  face  of  welcome.  There  were  many  lions  — 
amongst  others  the  famous  Dickens,  who  came  for  about 
half  an  hour  and  officiated  as  principal  carver  at  supper. 
Altogether  there  were  about  seventy  people.  I heard  many 
very  cheering  remarks  about  my  pictures  from  Academicians, 
one  of  whom  went  so  far  as  to  say  that  they  were  the  best 
paintings  in  the  Exhibition.  I am  in  great  hope  of  finding 
them  in  capital  positions  after  these  compliments. 

“ I have  just  returned  from  the  Foundling  Church.  The 
service  is  exceptionally  good,  and  the  children  look  very 
pretty.  During  the  Eitany  one  of  the  smallest  fidgeted 
one  of  her  shoes  off,  which  fell  through  the  palisades  and 
on  to  the  head  of  some  person  below.  With  all  the  evident 
care  that  is  bestowed  upon  their  education,  I am  astonished 
that  the  masters  do  not  forbid  the  use  of  thumbs  and  saliva 
in  turning  over  leaves. 

“ Next  week,  or  rather  this,  I mean  to  commence  painting 
again,  for  I cannot  stand  entire  laziness.  ‘ Romeo  and 
Juliet’  is  to  be  my  next  subject  — not  so  large  as  either 
of  this  year’s.  It  is  an  order  from  a Mr.  Pocock,  one  of 
the  secretaries  of  the  Art  Union.  ‘ The  Huguenot,’  which 


OO 


1 64  JOHN  EVERETT  MILLAIS  [1852 

was  sold  to  Mr.  White,  a dealer,  has  since  been  sold  by 
him  to  Mr.  Windus,  the  man  who  has  all  the  celebrated 
Turners,  and  has  already  one  of  my  paintings  — ‘Isabella,’ 
from  Keats’  poem.  I am  glad  that  it  is  in  so  good  a col- 
lection, but  cannot  understand  a man  paying  perhaps  double 
the  money  I should  have  asked  him. 

“ With  love  to  Mrs.  Pat,  believe  me, 

“ Most  truly  yours, 

“ John  Everett  Millais.” 

Note.  — Nothing  was  done  towards  the  painting  of  “ Romeo 
and  Juliet”  beyond  the  sketch  which  the  artist  made  for  it  in 
1S4S,  and  which  was  shown  by  Mr.  John  Clayton  at  the 
Millais  Exhibition  in  1898,  and  an  additional  design  of  the 
balcony  scene  [1852].  After  discussing  various  subjects  with 
Mr.  Pocock,  Millais’  suggestion  of  the  “ The  Proscribed 
Royalist  ” was  approved,  and  shortly  afterwards  the  picture 
was  painted,  and  passed  into  the  possession  of  Mr.  Pocock. 

Mr.  G.  D.  Leslie,  r.  a.,  tells  me  that  at  this  date  Millais 
sat  to  his  father  for  the  head  of  Lord  Petre,  in  a picture  of 
“ The  Rape  of  the  Lock.”  “ My  father,”  he  said,  “ painted 
Sir  John  on  a small  panel,  just  as  he  was,  in  a black  frock 
coat,  and  a black  cravat,  with  a little  golden  goose  for  a pin. 
The  portrait  was  a very  good  likeness  of  him  at  that  time, 
and  was  sold  at  the  sale  of  my  father’s  pictures  in  i860.  I 
don’t  know  who  purchased  it.” 

“ The  Rape  of  the  Lock  ” was  bought  by  the  late  John 
Gibbons,  of  Hanover  Terrace,  who  had  a fine  collection  of 
pictures,  and  it  is  now  in  the  possession  of  his  son. 


To  Mrs.  Combe. 

“ S3  Gower  Street, 

“ June  qt/i,  1852. 

“My  dear  Mrs.  Combe,  — With  this  I send  you  the  lace 
which  you  were  kind  enough  to  procure  for  me.  [It  was 
used  in  ‘ The  Huguenot,’  and  afterwards  in  ‘ The  Pro- 
scribed Royalist.’]  In  returning  it  to  the  lady,  I hope  you 
will  express  my  acknowledgments  for  her  great  kindness. 

“ I have  a subject  that  1 am  mad  to  commence  [‘  The 
Proscribed  Royalist’],  and  yesterday  took  lodgings  at  a 
delightful  little  inn  near  a spot  exactly  suited  for  the 


“MILLAIS  OAK” 


1S52J 


,65 


background.  I hope  to  begin  painting  on  Tuesday  morning, 
and  intend  working  without  coming  to  town  at  all  till  it  is 
done.  The  village  is  so  very  far  from  any  railway  station 
that  I have  no  chance  of  getting  to  London  in  rainy  weather. 
My  brother  is  going  to  live  with  me  part  of  the  time,  so  I 
shall  not  be  entirely  a hermit.  . . . 

“ The  immense  success  I have  met  with  this  year  has 
given  me  a new  sensation  of  pleasure  in  painting.  I have 
letters  almost  every  day  for  one  or  other  of  the  pictures,  and 
only  wish  your  guest  was  as  lucky,  that  he  might  go  off  to 
the  Holy  Land  as  soon  as  possible  with  me.  I shall  never  go 
by  myself.  When  I get  to  my  country  residence,  I will  keep 
up  a proper  correspondence  with  both  of  you.  Lately  I have 
hated  the  sight  of  a pen,  and  have  scarcely  answered  letters 
requiring  an  immediate  reply.  ...  I have  been  paying  a 
long-standing  visit  at  a relation’s  near  Croydon,  and  have 
become  acquainted  with  the  clergyman  of  the  adjoining 
parish  — a Mr.  Hamilton,  rector  of  Beddington  — one  of  the 
most  delightful  men  I ever  met.  He  is  a great  friend  of 
Mr.  Marriott  and  others  whose  names  I have  heard  you 
mention.  H is  church  and  village  are  quite  beaux  ideals  . . . 

“ Yours  very  sincerely, 

“ John  Everett  Millais.” 


This  is  the  first  letter  in  which  Millais  mentions  “ The 
Proscribed  Royalist  ” and  his  intention  to  paint  the  subject. 
Havings  found  a suitable  background  in  a little  wood  near 
Hayes,  in  Kent,  he  commenced  the  picture  in  Line,  1852, 
and  from  this  date  till  the  end  of  the  year  his  home  seems 
to  have  been  alternately  at  Waddon,  Gower  Street,  and 
the  little  “ George  Inn  ” at  Bromley,  kept  by  a Mr.  Vidler. 
Most  of  this  time  seems  to  have  been  spent  at  the  inn,  which 
was  within  easy  reach  of  the  scene  he  had  selected  ; near 
also  to  the  big  trees  on  Coney  Hall  Hill,  where  still  stands 
the  giant  oak  that  he  painted  in  the  foreground  of  the 
picture,  and  is  now  known  as  the  “ Millais  Oak.” 

Touching  this  painting  William  Millais  writes: — “An 
amusing  incident  occurred  whilst  we  were  at  the  ‘ George 
Inn,’  Bromley,  my  brother  being  engaged  on  the  background 
for  ‘The  Proscribed  Royalist’  in  the  old  oak  wood,  and 
I (close  by)  on  a large  oil  landscape. 

“ Old  Mr.  Vidler,  the  landlord,  was  very  proud  of  his 


1 66 


JOHN  EVERETT  MILLAIS  [1852 

signboard,  representing  St.  George  killing  the  Dragon,  and 
was  mortally  offended  at  our  turning  it  into  ridicule.  One 


day  during  our  stay  a violent 


THE  “MILLAIS  OAK,”  HAYES,  KENT.  1898 

taking  the  sign  in  at  night  an 


storm  carried  the  signboard 
off  its  hinges  and  smashed 
it  to  bits.  The  owner  was 
only  partly  consoled  on  our 
offering  to  paint  him  a new 
one,  and  added  ungraciously, 
‘ But  there,  now,  it  will  never 
be  the  same  thing.’ 

“ However,  he  thought 
differently  when  he  saw  the 
gorgeous  thing  we  produced. 
My  brother  painted  one  side 
and  I the  other.  Many 
people  at  this  time  came  to 
picnic  in  the  neighbour- 
hood, and  it  soon  got 
abroad  that  the  new  sign- 
board  was  painted  by  a 
great  artist.  The  old  inn- 
keeper was  flattered  by  the 
numbers  who  came  to  see 
it,  and  made  a practice  of 
1 in  rough  weather.” 


To  Mrs.  Hodgkinson. 

“George  Inn,  Hayes,  near  Bromley, 

“ Tuesday  Night,  June,  1852. 

“My  dear  Emily,  — According  to  promise,  I give  you 
immediate  information  about  our  arrival.  Upon  arriving 
at  Croydon  we  first  drove  to  your  mansion  at  Waddon, 
where  we  took  in  the  remaining  luggage  and  trotted  on 
here.  We  ordered  a repast,  and  in  the  interim  of  prepara- 
tion walked  to  the  oak  trees  and  down  to  the  farm,  where  I 
again  encountered  Mrs.  Rutley,  and  expounded  my  views 
to  her  upon  the  necessity  of  having  cover  close  at  hand 
for  my  paintings,  and  how  her  farm  exactly  suited  me  for 
that  purpose.  She  very  graciously  undertook  to  afford 
shelter  for  my  box  or  myself  in  case  of  rain,  storm,  etc., 
and  after  the  colloquy  was  ended  I joined  Will  (who  was 


i8S2]  CORRESPONDENCE  167 

too  timid  to  make  a request  to  a stranger)  and  walked  on 
here  home,  where  we  found  the  tea  waiting  us. 

“ The  clock  of  the  church  which  adjoins  our  premises  has 
just  struck  eleven,  and  signals  me  to  bed.  Another  bell 
within  me  foretells  an  animal  considerably  larger  than  the 
nightmare  visiting  me  — perhaps  an  evening  mammoth.  I 
am  writing  this  by  the  light  of  composition  candles,  sup- 
posed not  to  require  snuffing.  The  wick  of  one  hangs 
gracefully  over  like  a hairpin,  and  the  other  has  an  astonish- 
ing resemblance  to  a juvenile  cedar-tree,  the  latter  prog- 
nosticating I believe  the  reception  of  letters,  which  will  be 
particularly  acceptable  in  the  gloominess 
of  our  present  retreat,  more  especially 
from  our  blessed  little  coz,  E.  P.  H. 

“ Our  landlady  (Mrs.  Vidler)  has  just 
called  into  action  a spark  of  animation 
from  the  heir  apparent  of  Gower  Street. 

She  broke  in  upon  us  to  wish  us  a 
very  good-night,  and  is  gone  with  Vidler 
into  the  innermost  recesses  of  the  con- 
jugal boudoir,  probably  to  dilate  upon 
the  magnitude  of  our  appetites. 

“Yesterday  I harpooned  a most  ex- 
tensive whale  [a  patron]  off  the  coast 
•of  Portland  Place,  having  no  less  than 
ten  footmen  in  attendance  at  dinner.  Tourists  at  the  Inn.  1853 
The  leviathan  made  most  honourable 

overtures  for  an  increase  of  acquaintance  with  the  limner 
sprat  [himself],  who  conducted  himself  with  appropriate 
condescension  and  becoming  self-denial,  in  defiance  of  the 
strawberries  and  cream.  Somehow  or  other,  I believe  my 
evil  spirit  takes  his  residence  more  particularly  in  that 
all-surpassing  luxury,  cream.  It  was  my  ruin  at  Worcester 
Park,  and  directly  I came  here  it  invitingly  stands  within 
my  reach.  I wish  I had  courage  enough  to  dash  away 
that  beverage,  as  Macbeth  throws  the  goblet  from  him  on 
the  appearance  of  Banquo. 

“ During  the  journey  to  this  place  we  diverted  ourselves 
with  the  cup  and  ball,  catching  it  upon  the  point  during 
the  progress  of  cab,  train,  and  Croydon  fly.  William  is 
snoring  so  loudly  that  you  must  excuse  my  writing  more 
at  present.  I am  sure  he  would  send  affectionate  greetings 
•to  you  had  he  recovered  from  his  lethargy. 


1 68  JOHN  EVERETT  MILLAIS  [,852 

“Now  to  bed,  to  bed.  ‘Out  d d spot!’  (a  blot  of 

ink  on  my  finger). 

“ Affectionately  your  coz, 

“ Jack. 

“ P-S.  — Wednesday  morning.  I have  had  a bad  night’s 
rest.  Awoke  by  the  maid  at  six,  up  at  nine ; breakfast 
off  eggs  and  bacon.  Very  stormy  aspect  in  the  weather, 
the  glass  falling  to  much  rain.  If  it  comes,  you  will  pro- 
bably hear  of  all  those  magnificent  oaks  on  Coney  Hall 
Hill  slipping  down  into  the  road,  burying  therein  the 
most  celebrated  of  artists!  The  landlady,  unnaturally 
bland  for  a female,  has  already  exhibited  signs  of  maternal 
affection  for  William.  . . . The  rain  has  commenced  in 
torrents,  so  no  painting  to-day;  we  must  put  up  with 
profound  meditations  and  cup  and  ball.  The  wind  is  so 
high  that  all  the  trees  look  as  if  they  were  making  backs 
for  a game  of  leap-frog.” 

To  the  same. 

“ George  Inn,  Hayes,  Bromley,  Kent, 

“ Wednesday  Afternoon,  June,  1S52. 

“My  dear  Emily, — I am  come  in  from  an  attempt  to 
paint,  but  the  weather  is  too  cold  and  unsettled  for  any 
Christian  to  be  out  in,  so  I mean  to  console  myself  as  best 
I may  with  writing  this,  and  afterwards  reading  Uncle  Tom' s 
Cabin , which  is  certainly  interesting.  . . . 

“ Lynn  has  made  me  a regular  artist’s  shooting-stool, 
shutting  up  and  portable.  The  sun  is  positively  shining, 
now  that  it  is  too  late  to  begin  again.  Do  you  know  I shall 
not  recover  in  a hurry  from  those  two  insults — ‘ Ten-ston’- 
six,’ and  being  taken  for  the  newspaper  stall-keeper ! That 
comes  of  assisting  a lady  to  cut  books.  The  governor  has 
sent  me  a Liverpool  paper  with  a long  criticism  on  my 
picture,  ‘ The  Hug-or-not.’  . . . 

“ Next  Sunday  1 am  going  to  spend  at  A.  Mrs.  Doyle 
has  desired  her  husband  * to  bring  me  forcibly.  I had  such 
a capital  letter  from  him,  with  an  illustration  of  your  con- 
victed servant  painting  out-of-doors,  and  a bull  looking  over 
a hedge  with  a significant  expression,  foreboding  his  in- 
tention of  elevating  me  to  the  height  of  my  profession.  . . . 

* Richard  Doyle,  the  famous  caricaturist. 


CORRESPONDENCE 


1852] 


1 69 


“ Take  my  advice,  don’t  go  out  at  Hastings  with  that 
new  parasol,  otherwise  you  will  come  back  with  it  like  this  — 
[H  ere  follows  a sketch  of  Mrs.  Hodgkinson  being  blown 
off  a cliff  out  to  sea,  still  clinging  to  the  new  parasol. J 
“ I remain,  your  affectionate 

“ J.  E.  Millais.” 


A reminiscence  of  this  period  will  be  found  in  the  following 
note,  kindly  sent  to  me  by  Mrs.  Pitt:  — 

“ Perhaps  you  may  like  to  know  the  following  story  in 
connection  with  your  father’s 
life.  When  he  was  painting  the 
picture  ‘ A Proscribed  Royalist,’ 
near  Hayes  Common,  I was 
paying  a visit  to  my  mother, 
and  was  walking  with  my 
sisters  one  day,  when  we 
stopped  for  a minute  behind 
an  artist  to  look  at  his  picture. 

“ ‘ How  beautiful  it  is,’  I 
said,  half  to  myself,  ‘ and  how 
much  our  mother  would  like  to 
see  it.’ 

“ We  had  not  the  slightest 
notion  who  the  artist  was,  but 
he  courteously  turned  round  to 
us,  and  said  : 

If  your  mother  lives  near 
enough,  I shall  be  pleased  to 
take  the  picture  and  show  it 

tO  her.’  Sketch  for  “THE  ORDER  OF  RELEASE.” 

“ We  thanked  him,  and  in- 
vited him  to  luncheon.  He  came,  and  our  mother  — a real 
lover  of  Art — of  course  admired  the  picture  immensely, 
though  we  never  knew  who  the  artist  was  until  the  picture 
became  public. 

“ It  might  have  been  a year  or  two  afterwards  that  I was 
much  struck  with  ‘ The  Huguenot,’  and  when  visiting  my 
husband’s  brother-in-law  (Mr.  Miller)  at  Preston,  I discussed 
it  with  him.  At  that  time  he  deprecated  what  was  termed 
the  Pre-Raphaelite  style;  nevertheless,  he  went  and  bought 

Millais  had  been  working  steadily  for  more  than  a month 


JOHN  EVERETT  MILLAIS 


[1852 


at  Hayes,  and  was  getting  on  well,  when,  to  his  great  chagrin, 
he  was  called  away  from  his  work  to  attend  at  Oxford  as 
witness  in  a lawsuit  with  regard  to  the  will  of  Mr.  Drury, 
of  Shotover,  the  testator's  sanity  at  the  date  of  the  will  being 
questioned,  and  he  being  one  of  the  attesting  witnesses.  He 
happened  to  be  with  Mr.  Drury  in  1S49,  when  the  will  was 
made,  and,  having  spent  two  or  three  months  under  his  roof, 

he  could  speak  with  the 
utmost  confidence  as  to 
the  state  of  his  mind. 

On  the  conclusion  of 
Millais’  evidence,  Mr. 
Justice  Williams,  before 
whom  the  case  was  tried, 
complimented  him  in 
the  following  terms: 

“ Well,  Mr.  Millais, 
if  you  can  paint  as  well 
as  you  can  give  your 
evidence,  you  will  be 
a very  successful  man 
some  day.”  In  the  end 
the  validity  of  the  will 
was  established. 

To  Airs.  Hodgkinson. 

“ Hayes, 

“ August  4 th , 1852. 

“ My  dear  Coz,  — We 
have  just  concluded  our 
customary  game  of  skit- 
tles, and  I hasten,  with 
a shaky  hand,  to  fulfil  my  promise  of  writing  you  a letter. 
To-day  we  were  both  obliged  to  leave  off  painting  early,  as 
every  two  minutes  a shower  of  rain  came  down,  so  since 
one  o’clock  we  have  had  strong  exercise  in  archery  and  the 
knock-’em-downs.  Yesterday  we  also  took  a holiday,  as  it 
was  wet;  so  we  are  not  getting  on  precisely  as  we  could 
wish.  . . . 

“ Poor  Mrs.  Vidler  has  been  bedridden  for  some  time, 
owing,  I am  told,  to  an  encounter  with  some  drunken  fellow 
who  insulted  her.  They  say  she  doubled  her  mawleys  in  the 


CORRESPONDENCE 


ISS2] 


I7I 


true  pugilistic  style,  and  knocked  over  the  inebriate  vagabond, 
to  his  infinite  astonishment  and  discomfort,  so  injuring  his  leg 
in  the  fall  that  he  has  since  been  at  the  hospital.  . . . 

“ I wish  I was  in  a vein  for  describing  a club  feast  that 
came  off  here  a day  or  two  ago.  Upwards  of  eighty  agricul- 
tural labourers  sat  down  to  table,  the  stewards  wearing:  blue 
and  white  rosettes  in  their  buttonholes.  Of  course  almost 
all  of  them  were  drunk  in  the  evening,  and  some  of  the 
drollest  scenes  took  place  outside  the  house.  About  one  a.m. 
a fight  was  raging,  which  kept  me  awake  for  some  time  ; and 
last  night  I never  slept  till  four  in  the  morning — I suppose 
from  having  drunk  some  rather  strong  tea  at  the  Hasseys’  — 
so  to-day  I feel  sleepy  and  stupid. 

“ The  Royal  Academy  conversazione  I attended  alone, 
William  being  upset  with  rheumatics.  The  first  people  I 
met  were,  of  course,  the  Leslies,  with  whom  I kept  the 
greater  part  of  the  evening.  The  Duke  of  Wellington  made 
his  appearance  about  ten,  and  walked  through  the  rooms  with 
the  President,  Sir  Charles  Eastlake.  All  went  off  as  those 
and  most  things  do.  I saw  Mrs.  Leslie  (not  Miss)  down  to 
her  carriage,  and  walked  home  with  Hunt. 

“ With  a gentle  smoothing  down  of  George’s  ambrosian 
locks,  believe  me, 

“ Most  sincerely  yours, 

“John  Everett  Millais.” 


To  Mr.  Combe. 

“ George  Inn,  Hayes,  Bromley, 

“ Tuesday  Night,  October,  1852. 

“ My  dear  Combe,  — Do  not  be  astonished,  or  imagine  me 
forgetful,  in  allowing  so  long  a time  to  elapse  without  writing. 

“ 1 have  but  just  returned  to  this  place,  after  spending  a 
week  (bedridden)  at  Gower  Street,  where  I went  to  be 
nursed  in  a tremendous  rheumatic  cold  I caught  painting 
out  of  doors.  I am  well  again  now,  and  worked  away  to- 
day as  usual  at  my  background,  which  I hope  to  finish  in 
two  or  three  days  at  most,  when  I shall  return  to  Town  for 
good.  ...  I am  waiting  here  for  one  more  sunny  day,  to 
give  a finishing  touch  to  the  trunk  of  a tree  which  is  in  broad 
sunlight.  Both  yesterday  and  to-day  I have  suffered  from 
headache,  without  in  the  least  knowing  the  cause.  I have 


17 2 JOHN  EVERETT  MILLAIS  [isS2 

taken  medicine  enough  to  supply  a parish,  and  am  particularly 
careful  in  my  diet,  drinking  nothing  but  water — not  even  tea. 

“ This  year  I am  going  to  paint  a small  picture  of  a single 
figure,  the  subject  of  which  you  will  like  ; and  you  shall,  if 
you  like,  have  the  first  refusal  of  it.  The  one  I am  now 
about  is  the  property  of  Mr.  Pocock,  and  the  other  (of  the 
same  size)  is  for  Mr.  Wilkinson,  M.P.  for  Lambeth,  or  Mr. 
Ellison,  the  gentleman  who  purchased  ‘ Ferdinand.’  You 
recollect  seeing  it  at  Oxford.  It  is  quite  a ‘lark  ’ now  to  see 
the  amiable  letters  I have  from  Liverpool  and  Birmingham 
merchants,  requesting  me  to  paint  them  pictures,  any  size, 
subject,  and  amount  I like  — leaving  it  all  to  me.  I am  not 
likely  to  let  them  have  anything,  as  they  would  probably 
hawk  it  about  until  they  obtained  their  profit. 

“ I hear  from  Mrs.  Collins  that  they  may,  perhaps,  spend 
some  part  of  the  autumn  at  Hanover  Terrace.  I hope  it 
will  be  so,  as  I would  arrange  for  a tour  together  in  the 
spring  if  all  goes  right — to  Switzerland  or  Spain.  Next  year 
I hope  to  paint  the  ‘ Deluge,’  which  will  not  require  any  out- 
of-door  painting,  so  I should  be  at  liberty  to  take  a holiday 
abroad.  Write  and  let  me  know  what  you  think  of  this;  it 
is  a project  I really  intend.  Remember  me  most  affection- 
ately to  Mrs.  Pat,  to  whom  I shall  write  in  a day  or  two. 

“ Most  sincerely  yours, 

“John  Everett  Millais.” 

“The  Proscribed  Royalist  ” is  one  of  the  pictures  referred 
to  in  the  above  letter,  and  this  being  the  last  mention  of  it 
in  the  correspondence,  it  may  be  well  to  introduce  here  the 
subsequent  history  of  this  painting. 

The  background  was  not  completed  until  November;  and 
to  get  the  effect  of  sunshine  on  the  brilliant  satin  petticoat 
of  the  female  figure,  Millais  took  the  dress  down  to  Hayes 
with  him  and  rigged  it  up  on  the  lay  figure.  The  actual 
figure  and  face  of  the  woman  were  finally  taken  from  the 
beautiful  Miss  Ryan,  the  model  for  “The  Huguenot,”  and 
when  that  portion  of  the  work  was  finished  he  commenced 
(in  March)  to  paint  the  cavalier  hidden  in  the  trees.  For 
this  figure  his  friend  Mr.  Arthur  Hughes  (himself  virtually 
one  of  the  Pre-Raphaelite  Brothers)  sat,  and  to  him  I am 
indebted  for  the  following  interesting  note  : — 

“I  was  in  the  Royal  Academy  Library,”  he  says,  “one 
evening,  looking  at  books  of  etchings,  and  had  some  by 


“THE  ROYALIST.”  1S53 


By  permission  of  H . Graves  and  Son 


i85=] 


REMINISCENCES 


175 


Tiepolo  before  me,  when  Millais  came  in  and  sat  down 
beside  me.  Having  asked  for  Me  Ian’s  ‘ Highland  Clans  ’ 
(presumably  for  the  ‘ Order  of  Release’),  in  his  leisure  he 
looked  at  the  Tiepolos  and  criticised  them  at  once  as  ‘ florid, 
artificial.  I hate  that  kind  of  thinm’  Then  he  asked  me 

o 

to  sit  to  him  for  a head  in  his  picture,  ‘ The  Proscribed 
Royalist.’  I went,  and  sat  five  or  six  times.  He  painted 
me  in  a small  back-room  on  the  second  floor  of  the  Gower 
Street  house,  using  it  instead  of  the  regular  studio  on  the 
ground  floor  because  he  could  get  sunshine  there  to  fall 


on  his  lay  figure  attired  as  the  Puritan  Girl.  In  the  studio 
below  he  had  taken  the  picture  out  of  a wooden  case  with 
the  lid  sliding  in  grooves  — to  keep  all  dust  from  it,  he  said  — 
and  after  my  sitting  he  used  to  slip  it  in  again.  When  I 
saw  the  picture  I ventured  to  remark  that  I thought  the 
dress  of  the  lady  was  quite  strong  enough  in  colour;  but  he 
said  it  was  the  fault  of  the  sun  ; that  the  dress  itself  was 
rather  Quakery,  but  the  sunshine  on  it  made  it  like  gold.  His 
studio  was  exquisitely  tidy.  I had  been  admitted  by  a very 
curly-headed  Buttons  (‘  Mr.  Pritchard,  my  butler,’  as  Millais 
used  to  call  him),  who  received  at  the  same  time  a tremen- 


HEAD  OF  A GIRL.  Glenfinlass,  1853 


176  JOHN  EVERETT  MILLAIS  [1852 

clous  wigging  for  some  slight  debris  left  on  the  floor.  After 
he  had  retired,  Millais  made  it  up  to  him  by  declarino-  he 
would  undertake  to  make  that  boy  paint  better  than  a Royal 
Academician  in  a twelvemonth  ! Apart  from  my  admiration 
of  Millais,  it  was  a very  interesting  episode  to  me,  from  the 
revelation  of  character  in  the  few  inhabitants  of  the  house, 
and  the  way  he  ruled  all,  and  all  was  ruled  for  him.  The 
gentleness  of  the  father  and  the  vigorous  character  of  the 
mother,  the  picturesque  but  somewhat  restless  individuality 
of  V illiam  Millais,  were  all  interesting.  Commissions  were 


then  beginning  to  pour  in  upon  John,  and  in  less  degree  on 
William,  whose  forte  was  water-colour  landscapes,  exquisitely 
d rawn. 

“ The  latter  came  in  one  day,  saying,  1 I don’t  care,  I ’m 
all  right  for  a year.’  ‘And  your  brother  for  twenty,’  said  his 
mother — a little  sharply,  I thought. 

“William  used  to  work  in  the  front  room,  while  John 
painted  me  in  the  back  one.  There  was  but  a thin  wall 
between  the  two,  and  we  could  hear  William  all  the  time,  as 
he  was  very  restless,  singing  by  snatches,  whistling,  calling 
to  John  to  know  the  time  repeatedly,  coaxingly,  then  im- 
ploringly, noisily,  but  getting  no  reply,  John  working  hard 
and  serious  as  grim  death  the  while.  But  at  last  his  patience 


REMINISCENCES 


1 77 


1852] 

gave  out  and  he  stopped  work,  and  for  the  space  of  a minute 
he  levelled  such  language  at  William  as  up  to  that  time  I 
had  not  heard  used  by  one  brother  to  another.  But  he  did 
not  tell  him  the  time  ! 

“ During  the  sittings  we  talked  once  of  the  objection 
(among  many  others)  the  critics  made  to  the  amount  of  detail 
the  Pre-Raphaelites  gave  in  their  pictures,  and  Millais  said, 
‘ If  you  do  not  begin  by  doing  too  much  you  will  end  by 
doing  too  little;  if  you  want  to  stop  a ball  which  has  been 
thrown  along  the  ground  you  must  get  a little  beyond  it.’  ” 


“ The  Proscribed  Royalist  ” now  belongs  to  Mr.  James 
Opton,  having  been  successively  in  the  possession  of  Mr. 
Pocock,  Mr.  Flint,  and  Sir  John  Pender. 

The  headaches  of  which  Millais  complained  in  several  of 
his  letters  are  not,  I believe,  uncommon  among  men  of  his 
craft,  long  confinement  in  the  studio  unfitting  them  for  work 
in  the  open,  where  they  must  perforce  sit  still  for  hours 
together,  exposed  to  every  wind  that  blows.  In  early  life 
my  father  suffered  a good  deal  in  this  way  ; and  it  was  not 
until  his  friends,  John  Leech  and  “Mike”  Halliday,  per- 
suaded him  to  follow  the  hounds  that  he  found  relief  from 
this  complaint.  In  his  next  two  letters  he  writes  enthusias- 
tically on  the  sport,  as  a source  of  health  and  strength. 


I 


1 78  JOHN  EVERETT  MILLAIS  [1852 

To  Mr.  George  Wyatt. 

“83  Gower  Street, 

“ 1852. 

“ My  dear  Wyatt,  — Many  thanks  for  your  kind  attention 
to  my  wishes.  The  fleet  must  have  been  a wonderful  sight. 
I was  very  nearly  going  with  Leech,  the  Punch  draughtsman, 
to  see  its  departure,  but  found  even  greater  attraction  in 
hunting,  which  I have  lately  taken  to.  Every  Saturday  I 
accompany  him  into  Hertfordshire,  where  good  horses  await 
us,  and  we  stay  overnight  at  a friend’s,  and  set  off  in  the 
morning.  I have  been  four  times  out,  and  have  only  had 
one  spill,  which  did  not  hurt  me  in  the  least. 

“ I should  not  follow  the  chase  but  that  I enjoy  it  above 
all  other  recreation,  and  find  myself  cpiite  fitted  for  such 
exercise.  The  first  time  I ever  rode  over  a fence  gave  me 
confidence  from  the  comparatively  easy  way  in  which  I kept 
my  seat.  Since  then  I have  ridden  over  pretty  nearly  every 
kind  of  hedge  and  ditch.  Leech  is  a good  rider,  and  we  go 
together. 

“With  kind  regards  from  my  family,  believe  me, 

“ Yours  very  truly, 

“John  Everett  Millais.” 


To  Mr.  Combe. 

“83  Gower  Street,  Bedford  Square, 

“Saturday,  October  2 3 rd,  1852. 

“My  dear  Mr.  Combe, — I cannot  promise  to  pay  you 
a visit,  as  I am  now  going  to  look  for  another  background, 
which  I must  immediately  commence. 

“ I returned  the  day  before  yesterday  with  my  picture 
finished,  all  but  the  figures.  To-day  I am  going  to  the 
Tower  of  London,  to  look  after  a gateway  or  prison  door 
[for  ‘ The  Order  of  Release  ’].  I am  undecided  between 
two  subjects,  one  of  which  requires  the  above  locality,  and 
the  other  the  interior  of  a church.  [The  artist's  first  idea 
of  the  background  for  ‘ L’Enfant  du  Regiment,’  painted  in 
1855.] 

“With  regard  to  our  proposed  journey,  I shall  be  ready, 
directly  after  my  pictures  are  sent  to  the  Royal  Academy, 
to  go  with  you  to  Norway  or  the  North  Pole.  I look 


1852] 


CORRESPONDENCE 


179 


forward  to  this  travelling-trip,  as  I have  had  so  little  recrea- 
tion within  these  last  four  years,  and  I hope  you  will  pay 
the  Collins’s  a visit  this  autumn,  as  we  could  then  discuss  the 
merits  of  the  different  countries.  I have  a curious  partiality 
for  Spain,  from  reading  Don  Quixote  and  Gil  Bias ; but, 
as  you  say,  the  distance  is  an  obstacle.  I know  nothing 
about  Norway,  but  I hope  it  is  not  colder  in  the  summer 
than  here. 

“ Do  you  intend  coming  to  town  to  see  the  funeral  of 


the  Duke  ? I do  not  generally  care  about  such  things, 
but  1 shall  make  a little  struggle  for  that.  It  will  be  worth 
seeing. 

“ Have  you  seen  anything  of  Pollen*  lately,  and  has 
Jenkins  gone  yet?  Last  Thursday  evening  I met  Tennyson 
and  his  brother  Charles,  a clergyman.  Politics  were  the 
principal  topic  of  conversation,  the  Laureate  believing  it 
Louis  Napoleon’s  secret  intention  to  make  war  with  and 
invade  England.  In  this  Tennyson  thinks  he  would  be 

* Mr.  Pollen,  a fellow  of  Merton  College,  and  an  authority  on  Art  matters, 
was  a frequent  visitor  to  the  Combes,  and  met  there  Millais  and  Hunt,  whose 
works  he  admired. 


1 80  JOHN  EVERETT  MILLAIS  [1852 

successful,  holding  us  in  subjection  for  some  little  time,  when 
he  would  be  kicked  over  to  fair  France  to  resist  the  attack 
of  almost  all  Europe.  I can  see  you  smiling  at  this  like  a 
true  Britisher. 

“ Ever  yours  most  truly,  ' 

“John  Everett  Millais.” 


“ The  Order  of  Release  ” (referred  to  for  the  first  time 
in  the  foregoing  letter)  is  well  described  by  Mr.  Walter 
Armstrong,  who  begins  by  quoting  Mr.  Andrew  Lang  in  the 
following  notice  : — “‘In  1853  Millais  painted  a picture  in 
which  both  his  dramatic  power  and  his  eye  for  the  lovable 
in  woman  are  superbly  shown,  and  shown  under  some 
difficulties.  This  is  “ The  Order  of  Release,”  now  the 
property  of  Mr.  James  Renton.  It  was  originally  painted 
for  Mr.  Joseph  Arden,  who  gave  the  commission  for  it 
through  Thackeray.  As  a piece  of  realistic  painting,  it 
may  challenge  comparison  with  anything  else  in  the  world. 
The  scene  takes  place  not  outside  a prison,  as  more  than 
once  has  been  absurdly  supposed,  but  in  a bare  waiting- 
room,  into  which  the  young  clansman  has  been  ushered 
to  his  wife,  while  his  gaoler  takes  “ The  Order  of  Release,” 
which  will  have  to  be  verified  by  his  superior  before  it  can 
result  in  final  liberty.  The  stamp  of  actual  truth  is  on  it ; and 
if  ever  such  an  event  happened,  if  ever  a Highlander’s  wife 
brought  a pardon  for  her  husband  to  a reluctant  turnkey, 
things  must  have  occurred  thus.  The  work  is  saved  by 
expression  and  colour  from  the  realism  of  a photograph. 
The  woman’s  shrewd,  triumphant  air  is  wonderfully  caught, 
though  the  face  of  the  pardoned  man  is  concealed,  like  that 
of  Agamemnon  in  the  Greek  picture,  but  by  a subtle  artifice. 
The  colour  of  the  plaid  and  the  gaoler’s  scarlet  jacket  re- 
inforce each  other,  but  do  not  obliterate  the  black-and-tan 
of  the  collie.  The  good  dog  seems  actually  alive.  The 
child  in  the  woman’s  arms  is  uncompromisingly  “ Hieland.” 
The  flesh  painting,  as  of  the  child’s  bare  legs,  is  wonderfully 
real ; the  man’s  legs  are  less  tanned  than  usually  are  those 
of  the  wearers  of  the  kilt.  Perhaps  he  is  grown  pale  in 
prison,  as  a clansman  might  do  whose  head  seemed  likely 
soon  to  be  set  on  Carlisle  wall.  As  a matter  of  truthful 
detail,  observe  the  keys  in  the  gaoler’s  hand,  the  clear  steel 
shining  through  a touch  of  rust.  The  subject  and  the 


THE  ORDER  OF  RELEASE.”  1853 

By  permission  0/ H.  Graves  and  Son 


PASSION  FOR  ACCURACY 


1852] 


i83 


sentiment,  no  less  than  the  treatment,  made  this  picture  a 
complete  success.’ 

“ Every  word  of  this  may  be  endorsed,  but  Mr.  Lang  * 
has  hardly,  I think,  laid  sufficient  stress  on  the  mastery  of 
expression  in  the  woman’s  face.  In  it  we  can  see  the 
subtlest  mingling  of  emotions  ever  achieved  by  the  artist. 
There  is  not  only  shrewdness  and  triumph,  there  is  love  for 
the  husband,  contempt  mixed  with  fear  for  the  power  sym- 
bolised by  the  turnkey’s  scarlet,  pride  in  her  own  achievement, 


bri  JilDlT  [\1oyiI<s  f<T,  ffu  Kry^l 


From  Millais’  Comic  Sketch  Book 


and  the  curious  northern  satisfaction  at  the  safety  of  one’s 
own  property  — a Jeanie  Deans,  in  fact,  with  meekness 
ousted  by  a spice  of  pugnacity.” 

Spielmann  has  also  an  interesting  note  on  this  picture  in 
his  recently-published  Millais  and  his  Works.  He  says:  — 
“So  great  was  Millais’  passion  for  accuracy,  that  he  obtained 
a genuine  order  of  release,  signed  by  Sir  Hildegrave  Turner, 
when,  during  the  war,  he  was  Governor  of  Elizabeth  Castle 
in  Jersey,  and  so  faithfully  did  he  copy  it  that  the  late 
Colonel  Turner,  the  Governor’s  son,  who  knew  nothing 
of  the  matter,  recognised  with  surprise  his  father’s  signature 

* Mr.  Andrew  Lang  wrote  a very  excellent  series  of  notes  on  the  little 
exhibition  of  Millais’  work  exhibited  by  the  Fine  Art  Society  in  1 88 1 . 


1 84  JOHN  EVERETT  MILLAIS  [1852 

in  the  picture,  as  he  walked  through  the  gallery  in  which 
it  was  exhibited.” 

The  head  of  the  woman  (painted  from  my  mother)  was 
a perfect  likeness  of  her  in  1853,  except  only  as  to  the 
colour  of  her  hair,  a golden  auburn,  which  was  changed 
to  black,  in  order  to  contrast  with  that  of  the  child. 

Mr.  F.  B.  Barwell  tells  me  that  Westall,  the  famous 
model,  posed  for  the  Highlander.  He  had  been  in  a 

dragoon  regiment,  from  which  he  deserted.  Nemesis,  how- 
ever, overtook  him  one  day  in  the  studio  of  Mr.  Cope,  r.a., 
and  he  was  taken  back  to  his  old  regiment  and  tried  by 
court-martial.  Some  time  after  this  his  absence  was  so 


lamented  in  the  London  studios  that  a subscription  was 
raised  by  artists,  and  he  was  bought  out  of  the  service. 

“ Unlike  ‘The  Huguenot,’”  adds  Mr.  Barwell,  “the  back- 
ground of  which  had  been  severely  criticised,  ‘ The  Order 
of  Release'  made  an  immense  sensation.  No  fault  could 
be  found  with  the  background,  even  by  the  old-fashioned 
school,  whilst  the  extraordinary  realism  and  brilliant  colour- 
ing added  to  the  dramatic  interest  of  the  story,  and  the 
novelty  of  execution  astonished  all.” 

The  picture  is  said  to  have  been  the  first  ever  hung  on  the 
walls  of  the  Academy  which  required  the  services  of  a 
policeman  to  move  on  the  crowd.  “ Afterwards,”  says  Mr. 
Barwell,  “when  exhibited  in  Paris  at  the  Great  Exhibition 
of  1855,  it  arrested  a great  deal  of  attention,  and  in  an  article 
in  Le  Temps , by  Theophile  Gautier,  that  gentleman  expressed 
himself  completely  puzzled  as  to  how  it  had  been  produced  — 
what  the  vehicle  was,  whether  oil,  wax,  or  tempered  varnish 


“THE  ORDER  OF  RELEASE” 


1852] 


185 


and  bestowed  a considerable  amount  of  space  in  discussing 

its  merits.  The  article  was  favourable  on  the  whole,  but 
implied  that  it  was  another  instance  of  those  curious  eccen- 
tricities only  to  be  found  in  Albion.” 

In  assessing  the  value  of  this  picture  it  is  interesting  to 

note  that  it  was  sold 
by  Millais  to  Mr. 

Arden,  of  Rickmans- 
worth  Park,  for 
^400;  that  in  1878 
Mr.  James  Renton 
bought  it  for  ^2853; 
and  that  at  the  sale 
of  Mr.  Renton’s  col- 
lection, on  his  death, 
it  fell  to  Sir  Henry 
Tate  as  the  purchaser, 
at  the  price  of  5000 
guineas.  In  a sym- 
pathetic letter  Sir 
Henry  says  : — “ 1 he 
last  time  I saw  Sir 
John,  before  illness 
had  deprived  him  of 
speech,  he  told  me 
that  Mr.  Renton  had 
just  died,  and  ‘ The 
Order  of  Release  ’ was 
likely  to  come  into  the 
market.  He  spoke 
with  much  interest 
and  enthusiasm  of 
the  picture.  He  had 
too  much  good  feeling 
to  even  suggest  that  I should  buy  the  picture ; but  we 
gathered  that  he  would  like  it  to  belong  to  the  nation,  so 
it  was  a double  pleasure  to  me  to  obtain  it  last  month  for 
my  gallery,  as  I felt  I was  carrying  out  the  wish  of  a greatly- 
valued  and  much-missed  friend.” 

It  was  beautifully  engraved  in  1S56  by  the  late  Samuel 
Cousins,  the  finest  engraver  of  this  century,  or  probably  of 
any  other ; and  this,  his  first  work  on  Millais’  pictures,  was 
followed  by  a long  series  of  similar  interpretations,  all  of  the 


1 86  JOHN  EVERETT  MILLAIS  [1852 

same  high  standard  of  merit.  He  was  more  or  less  engaged 
upon  them  right  up  to  1884,  when,  after  beginning  “ Little 
Miss  Muffet,”  he  was  obliged  to  surrender  his  tools  to 
T.  Atkinson,  who  finished  the  plate.  Cousins  was  a quiet, 
plodding,  and  honest  worker  of  the  very  best  type,  and  his 
eventual  election  to  the  honour  of  Royal  Academician  was 
applauded  by  everybody  as  a compliment  he  well  deserved. 

The  sufferings  of  an  artist  while  painting,  or  rather  trying 
to  paint,  a tiresome  child,  are  amusingly  described  in  the 
following  letter  : — 


To  Mr.  Combe. 

“83  Gower  Street, 

“ December  16/h,  1852. 

“ Mv  dear  Mr.  Combe, — Instead  of  going  to  a musical 
party  with  my  father  and  brother,  I will  write  you  something 
of  my  doings.  I have  a headache,  and  feel  as  tired  as  if  I 
had  walked  twenty  miles,  from  the  anxiety  I have  undergone 
this  last  fortnight  [over  ‘ The  Order  of  Release’].  All  the 
morning  I have  been  drawing  a dog,  which  in  unquietness  is 
only  to  be  surpassed  by  a child.  Both  of  these  animals  I am 
trying  to  paint  daily,  and  certainly  nothing  can  exceed  the 
trial  of  patience  they  occasion.  The  child  screams  upon 
entering  the  room,  and  when  forcibly  held  in  its  mother’s 
arms  struggles  with  such  successful  obstinacy  that  I cannot 
begin  my  work  until  exhaustion  comes  on,  which  generally 
appears  when  daylight  disappears.  A minute’s  quiet  is  out 
of  the  question.  The  only  opportunity  I have  had  was  one 
evening,  when  it  fell  asleep  just  in  the  position  I desired. 
Imagine  looking  forward  to  the  day  when  next  one  of  these 
two  provoking  models  shall  come  ! This  is  my  only  thought 
at  night  and  upon  waking  in  the  morning.  When  I suggest 
corporal  punishment  in  times  of  extreme  passion,  the  mother, 
after  reminding  me  that  I am  not  a father,  breaks  out  into 
such  reproofs  as  these : ‘ Poor  dear  ! Was  he  bothered  to 
sit  to  the  gentleman?  Precious  darling!  Is  he  to  be  tor- 
mented?  No,  my  own  one;  no,  my  popsy,  my  flower, 
cherub,’  etc.,  etc.,  dying  away  into  kisses,  when  he  (the  baby) 
is  placed  upon  his  legs  to  run  about  my  room  and  displace 
everything.  Immediately  he  leaves  off  crying,  remarking 
that  he  sees  a ‘2fee-e.ee’  (pointings  to  a stag’s  head  and  antlers 
I have  hung  up),  and  would  like  to  have  one  of  my  brushes. 


'johti  tr\st/r 

im 


“ACCEPTED”  (Pen  Drawing).  1853 


i352] 


CORRESPONDENCE 


1 89 

This  infant  I could  almost  murder;  but  the  dog  I feel  for, 
because  he  is  not  expected  to  understand.  A strong  man 
comes  with  it  and  bends  him  to  my  will,  and  all  the  while  it 
looks  as  calm  as  a suffering  martyr.  I do  more  from  this 
creature  in  a day  than  from  the  other  in  a week. 

“This  year  I hope  you  will  come  and  see  the  produce  of 
all  this  labour  before  the  pictures  go  to  the  exhibition  — I 
mean  a day  or  two  previous,  so  that  they  may  be  quite 
finished.  . . . Wednesday  evening  I went  to  a public  dinner 
at  Hampstead,  and  escaped  in  time  to  avoid  returning  thanks 
for  the  honour  they  intended  doing  me.  I expect  soon  to 
have  an  invitation  to  a banquet  at  Birmingham  in  honour 
of  the  success  of  their  exhibition,  to  which  I sent  ‘ Ophelia.’ 
There  I am  afraid  I must  say  something,  as  I lost  only  by 
some  few  votes  the  prize  given  to  Ward’s  ‘Charlotte  Corday 
going  to  Execution,’  and  it  is  customary  to  propose  the 
health  of  the  unsuccessful  candidate.  My  brother  will  ac- 
company Hunt  in  time  to  attend  the  Magdalen  evening 
festival,  and  although  I shall  not  be  with  you  on  Christmas- 
day,  you  may  depend  upon  it  that  I shall  drink  your  and 
Mrs.  Pat’s  health.  Wishing  her  and  yourself  a happy 
Christmas,  believe  me, 

“ Ever  yours  most  sincerely, 

“John  Everett  Millais.” 


To  the  same. 

“ 83  Gower  Street, 

“ December , 1852. 

“ My  dear  Mr.  Combe,  — You  might  have  called  fifty  times 
and  never  have  found  all  our  family  out,  as  you  did  the  other 
day.  If  you  had  given  me  an  idea  that  you  intended  calling, 
I should  have  been  at  home  to  meet  you.  As  it  was  I was 
at  the  Tower  of  London  in  search  of  a background,  in  which 
I was  unsuccessful.  All  the  stonework  is  too  filthy  with  the 
soot  of  Town  to  make  any  good  colour  in  a background. 
Let  me  know  if  you  are  coming  up  to  see  the  lying-in-state 
or  the  funeral  of  the  Duke  [of  Wellington].  I have  been 
very  lucky,  having  got  a most  excellent  position  from  the 
Pinich  office  windows,  through  the  kindness  of  one  of  the 
principal  writers,  Tom  Taylor,  the  man  who  wrote  that 
flattering  notice  of  my  last  year’s  pictures. 


190  JOHN  EVERETT  MILLAIS  [1852 

“ This  day  I have  commenced  the  figure  in  my  summer’s 
work  (‘  The  Royalist  ’),  and  to-night  will  be  drawing  the 
group  of  my  other  subject  (‘ The  Order  of  Release’),  so  I 
have  begun  my  winter’s  work.  I saw,  last  night,  a friend’s  * 
pictures,  painted  this  year  in  Spain,  which  would  make  you 
alter  your  opinion  about  that  country.  The  people  and  place 
must  be  magnificent.  I never  saw  such  costumes  and  natural 
taste  in  the  manner  of  putting  their  dresses  on.  I think  we 
must  go  to  Spain.  . . . Yours  most  truly, 

“John  Everett  Millais.” 

To  Mrs.  Combe. 

“83  Gower  Street, 

“ December,  1852. 

“My  dear  Mrs.  Combe,  — How  did  you  like  the  funeral 
procession  ? I expected  to  have  heard  Mr.  Combe’s  opinion. 
In  the  Illustrated  London  News  there  is  a drawing:  of  the 
Royal  carriages  passing  the  Punch  offices,  and  a likeness  of 
me  sitting  in  the  front  row  between  some  ladies.  You  will 
see  by  that  how  good  a position  I had.  I hear  from  Collins 
that  you  are  not  coming  to  visit  them  until  after  Christmas. 
Do  not  make  it  long  after,  as  I shall  then  be  beginning  hard 
work  and  unable  to  join  you  in  walks,  etc.  Of  course  you 
have  heard  from  Hunt  since  his  return.  Now  that  he  has 
come  home  we  have  our  old  friendly  meetings  again,  such 
as  we  used  to  have  in  former  years.  Charlie  has  so  far 
altered  as  to  join  our  evenings,  which  he  used  to  look  upon 
as  almost  profane.  The  evenings  are  so  continually  wet  that 
I seldom  take  my  usual  walk  to  Hanover  Terrace.  Mrs. 
Collins  is  getting  quite  gloomy  at  the  infrequency  of  my  visits. 

“ Wilkie’s  new  novel,  Basil \ has  come  out.  I have  just 
finished  reading  it,  and  think  it  very  clever.  The  papers, 

I understand,  abuse  it  very  much,  but  I think  them  incon- 
sistent in  crying  it  down  and  praising  Antonina , which  is  not 
nearly  so  good.  Have  you  read  Esmond , Thackeray’s  last 
book?  I hear  from  Hunt  that  it  is  splendid,  but  it  is  in  so- 
much  request  at  the  library  that  I cannot  get  it. 

“ My  private  opinion  of  the  Wellington  car  is  that  it  looked 
like  a palsied  locomotive.  All  the  dignity  of  size  was  lost 
in  the  little  trembling  motion  it  had  over  the  stones  of  the 
streets.  It  suggested  bruises  on  the  hero’s  nose  from  shaking 

* John  Phillip,  R.A. 


1853] 


CORRESPONDENCE 


191 

of  the  body  in  the  coffin.  I say  ‘private  opinion,’  because  a 
Royal  Academician  was  mixed  up  in  the  design.  Altogether 
the  sight  was  a most  imposing  one,  but  there  is  so  much 
talk  about  it  that  I am  sick  of  the  very  name  of  the  Duke’s 
funeral.  It  has  taken  the  place  of  the  weather  in  conversation. 
The  first  thing  one  is  asked  in  Town,  upon  entering  a room, 
is,  ‘Did  you  see  it?  Where  from?  And  what  think  you  of 
it?’  Young  ladies,  generally  dumb  on  the  first  introduction, 
venture  upon  this  topic  as  courageously  as  an  accustomed 
orator.  Believe  me,  Most  truly  yours, 

“John  Everett  Millais.” 

To  Mr.  Combe. 

“83  Gower  Street, 

“ February  15  th,  1853. 

“My  dear  Mr.  Combe,  — All  my  family  are  gone  out  to 
a musical  party,  excepting  my  mother,  who  is  ill  in  her 
room,  suffering  from  a cold.  I have  but  just  returned  from 
Hanover  Terrace,  Poor  Mrs.  Collins  (also  afflicted  with 
cold)  has  entirely  lost  her  voice.  Charlie  is  rather  despond- 
ing about  the  quantity  of  work  he  has  got  before  him, 
doubting  the  possibility  of  finishing  for  the  Exhibition. 

“ I am  progressing  with  my  picture  slowly,  but  of  course 
will  finish  in  time.  . . . Hunt  is  so  hard  at  work  that  1 
never  see  him.  He  is  painting  a modern  subject,  which 
you  probably  know  more  about  than  I do.  I have  lately 
become  acquainted  with  a very  busy  Roman  Catholic,  a. 
most  mysterious-looking  individual,  a friend  of  Pollen’s. 
His  name  is  De  Bammerville.  I dined  with  him  last  week, 
and  he  called  to  ask  me  to  accompany  him  to  Cardinal 
Wiseman’s  this  evening,  but  I excused  myself.  I believe 
him  to  be  a Jesuit.  He  has  a most  extraordinary  appear- 
ance — an  excessively  dark  beard  and  complexion,  and  wearing 
wolf’s  fur  round  his  neck  and  wrists,  with  braid  — altogether 
looking  very  like  a stage  Polish  Count,  who  murders  every- 
one and  then  goes  down  a trap-door  with  blue  light  upon 
him.  I expect  he  looks  upon  me  as  a promising  convert. 
He  smiles  at  the  notion  of  my  attending  Wells  Street 
Church,  and,  no  doubt,  pictures  in  his  imagination  my  sitting 
on  a three-legged  stool,  painting  a Holy  Family  for  the  only 
church.  Yours  most  truly, 

“John  E.  Millais.” 


1 92  JOHN  EVERETT  MILLAIS  [is53 

About  this  time  Millais  presented  to  his  cousin,  Mrs. 
George  Hodgkinson,  a little  picture  of  a female  figure,  for 
which  she  herself  had  sat.  It  was  sent  to  her  in  June,  as 
soon  as  it  was  done;  but  the  husband,  objecting  to  the 
position  of  one  of  the  arms,  wrote  to  the  artist  and  begged 
him  to  take  a certain  portion  of  the  arm  away.  To  this 
request  he  received  the  following  amusing  reply : — 


To  Mr.  Hodgkinson. 

“ London, 

“ June  io th. 

“ Sir,  — You  desire  that  in  your  absence  the  young  woman 
should  have  an  operation  performed  on  her  left  arm.  I have 
consulted  her  pleasure  upon  the  subject,  and  have  explained 
that  her  ‘frame’  shall  not  be  shaken,  as  we  intend  taking 
her  out  of  it.  Mr.  Robinson  will  be  in  attendance,  to  ad- 
minister chloroform,  upon  which  I intend  making  an  incision 
with  my  palette  knife  just  below  the  elbow.  Laying  open 
the  wound,  we  shall  then  have  exposed  the  two  punctured 
bones,  the  ‘radius’  and  the  ‘ulna,’  upon  which  an  immediate 
solution  of  turps  shall  be  plentifully  applied.  By  this  latter 
expedient  we  hope  to  eradicate  the  deformity  and  to  make  a 
bona  fide  restoration. 

“ The  only  companion  the  patient  has  had  during  her 
incarceration  has  been  her  trusty  Dandy,  ‘ Shy,’  who  has 
put  on  a very  long  face  since  he  has  been  with  her,  gloomy 
in  sympathy  with  his  serene  parent,  who  has  been  pupping 
and  given  birth  to  feline  juveniles.  . . . William  has  been 
playing  one  or  two  tricks  with  his  mawleys  upon  the  piano, 
accompanying  the  quartette  with  such  good  effect  that  the 
governor  has  thrown  up  the  sponge  in  token  of  the  total 
defeat  of  that  instrument.  Time  was  frequently  called,  but 
none  but  Bill  came  to  the  scratch.  The  Lord  and  Master  of 
this  house  is  at  this  moment  endeavouring  to  bring  the  un- 
fortunate piano  (who  is  upwards  of  forty)  back  to  its  original 
tone.  My  female  parent  is  in  the  adjoining  room,  making 
preparations  for  an  early  dinner,  which  principally  consist 
in  the  entire  subjugation  of  the  curly-headed  Pritchard,  and 
a discovery  of  bottles,  the  contents  of  which  are  unknown 
to  her;  hence  a continual  application  of  the  necks  of  the 
aforesaid  bottles  to  the  aforesaid  lady’s  nose,  accompanied 
by  an  observation,  ‘ That ’s  gin,’  ‘ That ’s  vinegar,’  or  ‘ What ’s 


“THE  BLIND  MAN.”  1853 
Pen  Drawing 


EXPEDITION  TO  SCOTLAND 


1 95 


1853] 

that,  Pritchard?’  (the  boy’s  nose  takes  kindly  to  the  odour 
of  wines.)  ‘Sherry,  mum.’  I believe  that  boy  would  be 
worth  a publican’s  while  to  purchase.  Get  him  an  order  to 
taste  the  wines  at  the  docks,  and  he  would  bring  himself 
out  as  full  as  a bottle.  He  has  come  in  with  the  tablecloth 
for  dinner,  and  mother  calls  for  a general  clearance  for  that 
meal  ; so  no  more  at  present  from  your 

“ Limner, 

“ Jack  Millais.” 


CROSSING  THE  BORDER.  1853 
Sketch  by  William  Millais 


At  the  end  of  June,  1853,  Millais,  in  company  with  his 
brother  William,  journeyed  North  for  the  first  time,  intending 
to  take  a good  holiday  after  prolonged  work  at  his  easel. 
The  expedition  was  at  first  suggested  by  the  Ruskins,  who 
had  agreed  to  meet  the  brothers  and  introduce  them  to  some 
of  the  beauties  of  the  Northern  hills.  After  spending  a 
delightful  week  with  Sir  Walter  Trevelyan  in  Northumber- 
land, which  the  railway  had  then  penetrated  as  far  as 
Morpeth,  the  two  brothers  met  the  Ruskins  there  and 
travelled  with  them  by  private  coaches  to  the  Trossachs, 
taking  en  route  the  picturesque  old  towns  of  Melrose  and 
Stirling. 


1 96 


JOHN  EVERETT  MILLAIS 


;isS3 


r--  u 


9 

t 


/ 


To  the  former  place  their  host  insisted  on  accompanying 
them,  taking  Mrs.  Ruskin  and  her  friend,  Miss  McKenzie, 
in  his  dog-cart.  There  then  they  parted,  the  visitors  betaking 
themselves  to  a carriage  and  pair  under  the  guidance  of  a 
postillion.  This  gentleman,  however,  proved  himself  hardly 
equal  to  the  occasion.  After  a brief  halt  at  a'  hostelry  in 
the  hill  country,  where  the  whisky  was  supremely  tempting, 
he  was  taken  so  seriously  ill  that  he  could  no  longer  control 

ps  . . - his  horses.  There  was 

nothing  for  it,  therefore, 
but  to  dispense  with  his 
services  and  tool  the 
animals  along  as  best 
they  could.  William 
Millais  gallantly  under- 
took this  task,  and  after 
depositing  the  unhappy 
Jehu  amidst  the  luggage 
on  the  top  of  the  coach 
he  evolved  from  his 
own  inner  consciousness 
something  that  served 
for  reins,  and  managed 

o 

to  land  the  party  safely 
at  Callander,  where 
rooms  had  been  en- 
gaged for  them. 

Mrs.  George  Hodg- 
kinson  sends  me  a 
sketch  of  his,  made  at 
the  time,  showing  the 
post-boy  hanging  on  to  the  collar  of  one  of  his  horses,  as 
he  piteously  moans,  “ Aw’m  verrarr  baad  — aw  canna  ride  — 
oh  dearr,  oh  dearrr  ! ” 

At  Callander  the  two  brothers  found  apartments  in  the 
“New  Trossachs  Hotel,”  microscopic  in  size,  but  clean  and 
comfortable,  and  took  most  of  their  meals  with  their  friends, 
who  were  more  luxuriously  accommodated  at  the  manse,  at 
Brig  o’  Turk,  some  five  hundred  yards  away.  But,  “ hey,  oh, 
the  wind  and  the  rain  ! ” — especially  the  rain.  For  nearly  five 
long  weeks  it  came  steadily  down,  regardless  of  Mrs.  Ruskin 
and  her  brave  championship  of  the  climate  of  this,  her  native 
land.  Except  at  rare  intervals,  sketching  was  out  of  the 


n 


■ ■ 
0 


v i 


\d 


CLOSE  QUARTERS.  1S53 


THE  TROSSACHS 


1 97 


1853] 

question.  There  was  nothing  to  see  ; but  health  and  strength 
were  to  be  had  by  braving  the  elements.  Mackintoshes  had 
not  then  been  invented,  but  the  plaid  of  the  country  afforded 
some  protection,  and,  thus  habited,  the  whole  party  turned 
out  day  by  day,  spending  their  lives  in  the  pure  air.  It 


was  soon  found,  however,  that  the  plaid  was  insufficient 
without  the  kilt,  and  as  in  those  days  sojourners  in  the 
Highlands  were  expected  to  adopt  the  costume  of  the 
country,  not  only  for  their  own  comfort,  but  as  a compliment 
to  the  natives,  whose  judgment  in  the  matter  of  dress  was 
thus  endorsed,  it  needed  no  great  persuasion  on  the  part 


198  JOHN  EVERETT  MILLAIS  [.853 

of  their  friends  to  make  the  two  brothers  array  themselves 
accordingly.  John  Millais,  however,  did  not  take  kindly  to 
the  kilt.  Unlike  his  brother,  who  continued  to  wear  it  to 
the  end  of  the  season,  he  discarded  it  after  one  day’s  wear, 
finding  perhaps  more  trouble  with  it  than  he  did  with  the 
plaid,  until  after  many  attempts  he  learnt  the  art  of  adjusting 
it  in  the  proper  fashion.  His  first  attempt  — in  a big  storm  — 
was  about  as  futile  as  Dame  Partington’s  struggle  with  her 
mop  against  the  Atlantic  waves  when  they  invaded  her  house. 


FISHING  IN  LOCH  ACHRAY.  1853 


He  came  out  of  the  combat  beaten  and  wet  to  the  skin ; but 
alive,  as  he  always  was,  to  the  humorous  side  of  things,  he 
made,  the  same  evening,  a sketch  of  the  event;  and  shortly 
afterwards  there  appeared  in  Punch  a more  finished  drawing 
of  his,  entitled  “ How  to  wear  a Highland  plaid.” 

Every  day  the  united  parties  went  on  some  expedition 
together,  climbing  perchance  Ben  Ledi,  or  fishing  in  Loch 
Achray,  famous  in  local  tradition  for  salmon  that  never  were 
there,  and,  whenever  it  was  possible  to  do  so,  making 
sketches  of  the  scenery  around.  As  to  Millais,  his  only 
thought  was  of  a pleasant  holiday  and  rest  from  his  usual 
occupations;  yet  even  he  was  caught  at  last  by  the  fascina- 


‘THE  ROMANS  LEAVING  BRITAIN.” 
Line  and  Sepia  Drawing 


1853] 


CORRESPONDENCE 


20  I 


tion  of  a turn  in  the  lovely  little  river  Finlass.  It  suddenly 
occurred  to  him  that  it  would  make  a capital  background 
for  a single  figure  if  all  the  other  parts  of  the  landscape 
were  subdued  in  deep  shadow;  and  on  Mr.  Ruskin  consent- 
ing to  stand,  he  began  at  once  a portrait  of  the  critic,  which 
is  now  known  as  one  of  the  best  works  he  ever  did. 

The  picture  was  afterwards  purchased  by  Dr.  (afterwards 
Sir  Thomas)  Acland,  whose  recent  visit  to  Callander  had 
added  greatly  to  the  pleasure  of  the  party.  Millais  refers 
to  it  in  the  following  letter  : — 


To  Mr.  Combe. 

“ New  Trossachs  Hotel,  Callander, 

“Stirling,  August  4 th , 1S53. 

“ My  dear  Mr.  Combe,  — Finding  all  my  friends  writing 
letters,  I have  just  crossed  the  bog  that  separates  us  from 
them  to  send  you  a bulletin  of  our  health  and  doings.  Our 
patience  has  been  most  sorely  tried,  and  has  stood  proof 
tolerably  well.  Cannot  you  see  us,  one  by  one  and  hour  by 
hour,  with  anxious  faces,  trying  to  read  the  sun  through 
Scotch  mist  and  rain?  Cannot  you  hear  us  singly  giving  our 
decided  opinion  of  the  day,  hope  buoying  us  up  to  tell  other 
than  our  real  sentiments  about  the  state  of  the  weather? 
‘ It ’s  a varry  saaft  dee  ’ has  greeted  me  every  morning  for 
the  last  five  weeks,  uttered  by  a buxom  landlady,  who  is  truly 
the  only  person  I have  seen  unclouded  about  the  physiognomy. 

“ Dr.  Acland  has  been  staying  here  a few  days.  What  an 
amiable  man  he  is  ! He  left  us  on  Monday,  and  I have  taken 
his  room,  because  of  the  fine  view  its  window  affords.  I 
was  determined  to  bring  back  something,  so  on  the  very 
afternoon  of  his  departure  I began  a new  picture.  Oh  that 
I had  tried  this  bait  before  with  the  sun,  for  I had  barely 
sketched-in  my  work  before  the  sun,  with  British  effulgence, 
burst  out  upon  the  rocky  hills.  The  wet  birch  leaves  gave 
back  tiny  images  of  him,  and  all  the  distant  mountains 
changed  suddenly  from  David  Cox  to  the  Pre-Raphaelites. 

“What  was  a purple  wash  became  now  a network  of 
grays  and  lilacs,  with  no  inconsiderable  amount  of  drawing 
about  their  rugged  peaks  ; in  fact,  such  drawing  as  Nature 
always  rejoices  in.  This  post-meridian  burst  of  light  augured 
well  for  the  morrow,  and,  indeed,  Tuesday  was  a prince  of 
days,  and  we  worked  well.  Wednesday  and  Thursday  like- 


202  JOHN  EVERETT  MILLAIS  [i8S3 

wise,  though  cold  latterly  went  far  towards  cramping  us. 
Ruskin  comes  and  works  with  us,  and  we  dine  on  the  rocks 
all  together,  but  only  on  fine  days;  so  this  course  of  living 
has  been  very  much  the  exception.  Only  imagine  a paper 
being  sent  here  — ‘ that  all  stray  dogs  (during  the  dog-days) 
be  shot ! ’ The  mention  of  a mad  dog  suggests' only  heat 
and  drought.  Do  dogs  ever  become  mad  in  Scotland  ? 

“ Ever  yours  sincerely, 

“John  Everett  Millais.” 

To  the  same. 

“ c/o  Mr.  Stewart,  Bridge  of  Turk, 

“ Callander,  Perthshire, 

“August,  1853. 

“My  dear  Mr.  Combe,  — My  brother  William  has  just 
received  your  letter,  and  as  you  kindly  express  a wish  to  hear 

from  me,  I take  the  present 
opportunity  of  sending  you  a 
few  lines. 

“ This  day  (Sunday,  August 
14th)  we  have  been  to  church, 
and  taken  a delightful  walk  to 
a waterfall,  following  the  stream 
till  we  came  to  a fall  of  seventy 
feet,  where  we  had  a bath  (my 
brother  and  self),  he  standing 
under  the  torrent  of  water, 
which  must  have  punished  his 
back  as  severely  as  a soldier’s 
cat  - o’  - nine  - tails  whipping. 
These  mountain  rivers  afford 
the  most  delightful  baths,  per- 
fectly safe,  and  clear  as  crystal. 
They  are  so  tempting,  that  it 
is  quite  impossible  to  walk  by 
them  without  undressing  and 
jumping  in.  I am  immensely 
surprised  to  hear  that  Hunt  is 
going  to  Syria  so  soon.  I 
confess  1 had  begun  to  think 
that  his  intended  voyage  there 
was  a myth,  for  he  has  not 


SIR  THOMAS  ACLAND  1853 


CORRESPONDENCE 


2°3 


1S53] 

spoken  to  me  about  leaving  England,  although  I receive 
letters  continually  from  him.  I suppose  he  thinks  it  would 
only  meet  with  incredulity.  I am  painting  a portrait  of 
Ruskin,  with  a background  of  rocks  and  a waterfall,  which 
is  close  here,  so  I get  at  it  easily  in  the  morning. 

“This  year  I am  giving  myself  a holiday,  as  I have 
worked  five  years  hard.  If  you  have  leisure  to  read,  get 
Ruskin’s  two  last  volumes  of  The  Stones  of  Venice,  which 
surpass  all  he  has  written.  He  is  an  indefatigable  writer. 


William  Millais  Sir  Thomas  Acland 


Millais 


We  have,  in  fine  weather,  immense  enjoyment,  painting  out 
on  the  rocks,  and  having  our  dinner  brought  to  us  there,  and 
in  the  evening  climbing  up  the  steep  mountains  for  exercise, 
Mrs.  Ruskin  accompanying  us.  Last  Sunday  we  all  walked 
up  Ben  Ledi,  which  was  cpiite  an  achievement.  I am  only 
just  getting  the  mountaineer’s  certainty  of  step,  after  ex- 
periencing some  rather  severe  falls,  having  nearly  broken  my 
nose,  and  bruised  my  thumb-nail  so  severely  that  I shall  lose 
it.  My  shins  are  prismatic  with  blows  against  the  rocks.  . . . 

“ V ery  truly  yours, 

“John  Everett  Millais.” 


204 


JOHN  EVERETT  MILLAIS 


[1853 


DESIGN  FOR  A GOTHIC  WINDOW.  1853 
Water-colour 


To  the  same. 

“ c/o  Mr.  Stewart,  Brig  o’  Turk, 

“ Callander, 

“ August,  1853. 

“My  dear  Mr.  Combe, — . . . Ruskin  and  myself  are 
pitching  into  architecture;  you  will  hear  shortly  to  what 
purpose.  I think  now  I was  intended  for  a Master  Mason. 
All  this  day  I have  been  working  at  a window,  which  I hope 
you  will  see  carried  out  very  shortly  in  stone.  In  my  evening 
hours  I mean  to  make  many  designs  for  church  and  other 
architecture,  as  I find  myself  quite  familiar  with  constructions, 
Ruskin  having  given  me  lessons  regarding  foundations  and 
the  building  of  cathedrals,  etc.,  etc.  This  is  no  loss  of  time 
— rather  a real  relaxation  from  everyday  painting  — and  it  is 
immensely  necessary  that  something  new  and  good  should 
be  done  in  the  place  of  the  old  ornamentations. 

“ Surely  now  that  there  seems  more  likelihood  of  a Russian 
war  you  will  not  persist  in  travelling  eastward.  Assuredly 
you  will  all  lose  your  heads.  You  in  particular  will  verify 
your  cognomen  of  ‘ Early  Christian  ’ in  such  an  event,  for 


i853]  DISCUSSION  ON  ARCHITECTURE  205 


that  was  generally  their  fate.  Is  there  any  chance  of  your 
coming  to  Edinburgh  in  October?  Do,  if  you  can,  and 
hear  Ruskin’s  lectures,  and  we  will  have  a stroll  over  the 
city.  Does  your  fountain  still  play?  Have  the  gold-fish 
been  boiled  again?  Is  Emma  still  alive?  And  have  you 
finished  your  shields?  All  these  things  I am  anxious  to 
know.  Yours  very  faithfully, 

“John  Everett  Millais.” 


WILLIAM  MILLAIS  AT  WORK.  1S53 


Both  Ruskin  and  Millais  felt  that  in  modern  architecture, 
no  less  than  in  modern  painting,  the  lack  of  original  composi- 
tion and  design  was  painfully  evident.  They  had  many  talks 
on  the  subject,  and  as  Mr.  Ruskin  intended  to  refer  to  this 
in  a lecture  in  Edinburgh,  Millais  exercised  himself  in  the 
evening  by  sketching  designs  of  all  sorts  in  a book  which 
now  lies  before  me.  Figures,  flowers,  and  animals  are  all 
grouped  in  every  conceivable  way,  principally  to  be  used  in 
the  decoration  of  church  windows,  the  chief  design  beimj 
done  on  large  sheets  of  grocery  paper  bought  at  a neighbour- 
ing shop,  and  pasted  on  strips  of  canvas  fixed  together  by 
himself.  This  design  (a  water-colour  drawing  for  the  window 
referred  to  in  the  foregoing  letter)  represented  angels  saluting 


206  JOHN  EVERETT  MILLAIS 


[1853 


one  another,  the  light  being  admitted  through  ovals,  round 
which  the  arms  of  each  figure  clasped  and  met.  It  had  a 
base  line  of  109  inches,  and  was  shortly  afterwards  exhibited 
by  Ruskin  at  his  Edinburgh  lecture.  Many  years  after  that 
it  was  seen  by  a noted  cleric,  who  wished  to  have  it  carried 
out  for  a new  window  in  one  of  our  cathedrals'.  The  ex- 
pense, however,  was  found  to  be  too  great,  so  the  idea  was 
abandoned.  Millais  was  especially  keen  to  show  his  ability 
in  this  particular  line,  for,  to  his  mind,  a true  artist  should 
be  able  to  design  or  draw  anything,  and  he  had  recently  been 
somewhat  piqued  by  the  observation  of  a newspaper,  that 
“ though  Millais  might  be  successful  in  painting,  he  was  in- 
capable of  making  an  architectural  design.” 


“ My  dear  Mrs.  Combe, — I am  almost  ashamed  to  write 
to  you,  after  permitting  so  long  a time  to  elapse  without 
a letter.  I am  enjoying  myself  so  much  here  that  I can 
scarcely  find  time  to  hold  a pen  ; it  is  as  much  as  I can 
do  to  paint  occasionally.  To-day  I have  had  a sick  head- 
ache, which  has  prevented  me  from  painting  the  background 
of  a portrait  of  Ruskin.  When  the  weather  permits,  we 
all  dine  out  upon  the  rocks,  Mrs.  Ruskin  working,  her 


To  Mrs.  Combe. 


“ New  Trossachs  Hotel,  Brig  o’  Turk, 


‘ ‘ September  6 th,  1853. 


husband  drawing,  and  myself 


painting.  There  is  only  one 
' drawback  to  this  almost  per- 
- feet  happiness  — the  midges. 


They  bite  so  dreadfully  that 
it  is  beyond  human  endur- 


ance  to  sit  quiet,  therefore 
l many  a splendid  day  passes 


j ' without  being  able  to  work. 
This  does  not  errieve  me 

o 

p1  / much,  as  I am  taking  a holi- 


gneve  me 


.AT  the  idle  and  the  industrious 

J PAINTER.  1853 


day  this  season,  and  when  I 
return  I mean  (if  you  will 
receive  me)  to  pay  you  a 
visit.  Dr.  Acland  was  stay- 
ing with  us  a little  while 


‘THE  DYING  MAN.” 


I 


i853]  REMINISCENCES  OF  SCOTLAND  209 


back,  and  I think  greatly  enjoyed  himself.  He  is  a delightful 
companion,  and  joined  us  in  games  of  battledore  and  shuttle- 
cock, which  we  play  for  exercise  between  hours. 

“ Mr.  Ruskin  is  going  to  lecture  in  Edinburgh  next  month, 
and  we  are  busy  making  drawings  for  illustration.  You  will 
probably  hear  of  me  as  an  architect  some  day  ! Are  you 
going  with  Hunt  and  the  Early  Christian  to  Syria?  Have 
you  heard  much  of  Jenkins,  and  how  is  the  parson?  The 
service  here  is  as  unlike  that  at  Oxford  as  an  oyster  is 
unlike  a crow.  The  church  is  a beautiful  little  house  built 
on  the  border  of  a lake,  and  the  minister  is  a good,  hard- 
working, sensible  fellow,  who  lives  in  the  same  house  as 
we  do.  . . . The  service,  I confess,  I do  not  like,  but  I 
am  pleased  with  the  people,  who  seem  all  earnestly  desirous 
of  doing  their  duty.  The  church  is  supported  by  the 
visitors  to  the  hotels,  there  being  no  rich  lairds  about  here, 
nobody  but  poor  old  bodies  wrapped  up  in  plaids.  . . . 

“ Yours  most  truly, 

“John  Everett  Millais.” 

In  1853  manners  and  modes  of  life  of  the  Scotch 
peasantry  were  somewhat  different  from  what  they  are  now. 
The  doggies  came  to  church,  as  they  still  do  in  one  or  two 
remote  districts,  and  the  music  was  conducted  by  the  pre- 
centor, whose  comic  personality  is  admirably  hit  off  in  one 
of  Millais’  sketches. 

William  Millais  says  of  this  visit  to  the  North:  — “How 
well  I remember  our  going  to  the  little  Free  Kirk,  arrayed 
as  well-turned-out  Highland  men.  The  service  was  to  us 
somewhat  comical,  and  we  could  hardly  stay  it  out.  The 
precentor  was  a little  very  bow-legged  old  man,  with  the 
wheeziest  of  voices,  and  sang  the  first  line  of  the  ‘ para- 
phrase’ alone,  whilst  his  little  shaggy  terrier,  the  image 
of  his  master,  joined  in  a piteous  howl.  The  other  lines 
were  sung  by  the  congregation,  assisted  by  a few  collies.  I 
afterwards  tackled  the  little  precentor,  and  asked  him  why 
he  didn’t  have  an  organ.  ‘ Ah,  man,  would  you  have  us 
take  to  the  devil’s  band  ?’  was  his  answer. 

“ When  the  sermon  came,  it  was  most  amusing  to  us  to 
watch  the  old  men  passing  their  rams’  horn  snuff-mulls  to 
one  another,  and  putting  little  bone  spades  full  of  the 
pungent  material  up  their  noses  to  keep  them  awake. 

“ In  front  of  us  were  two  well-dressed  young  girls,  in  all 
1—  14 


210  JOHN  EVERETT  MILLAIS  [1853, 

the  newest  fashion,  and  when  the  shallow  offertory-box  was 
poked  towards  them,  they  put  in  a farthing.  We  afterwards 
saw  them  take  off  their  shoes  and  stockings  and  walk  home 
barefooted. 

“ As  the  whole  congregation  passed  out,  my  brother 
allowed  that  they  one  and  all  riveted  their  eyes  on  his  legs, 
and  he  made  up  his  mind  then  to  get  rid  of  the  beastly 
kilt,  and  left  me  to  carry  out  his  purpose.  Just  then  I 


saw  a carriage  passing  along  the  high-road,  with  a mart 
gesticulating  towards  me.  I at  once  recognised  him  as 
Gambart,  the  well-known  picture-dealer.  He  stopped  the 
vehicle,  and  got  out  and  asked  after  my  brother,  and  then 
introduced  me  to  the  lady  inside  — ‘ Mdlle.  Rosa  Bonheur  ’ — 
who  expressed  herself  enthusiastically  upon  my  appearance. 
‘ Ah,  my  dear  Millais,’  said  Gambart,  ‘ Mademoiselle  Rosa 
Bonheur  has  been  eagerly  on  the  look-out  for  the  Highland 
garb  ever  since  we  left  Edinburgh,  and  yours  is  the  first 
kilt  she  has  seen.  You  are  immortalised.’  I told  them  that 
if  they  had  been  a little  sooner  they  would  have  seen  my 
brother  in  a similar  garb.  ‘ How  beautiful  he  must  look 


HIS  SKETCH-BOOK 


2 I I 


i8S3] 

in  it,’  said  Gambart.  It  was  a pity  they  had  not  seen  him! 
We  lunched  with  them  at  Trossachs  Hotel,  but  nothing 
would  induce  my  brother  to  don  the  kilt  again.” 

Among  the  most  interesting  records  of  this  period  is  a 
large  sketch-book  of  Millais'.  The  first  part  is  filled  with 
highly-finished  drawings,  illustrating  the  various  “ ploys  ” of 
the  party  — salmon-fishing,  sketching,  and  expeditions  in  the 
hills  — the  latter  half  containing  comical  caricatures  of  the 
people  who  came  and  went. 


In  the  evenings,  after  dinner,  Art  was  frequently  dis- 
cussed, and  Millais  would  occasionally  make  fun  of  the  old 
masters,  showing  in  a few  lines  the  chief  materials  of  their 
stock-in-trade.  Some  of  these  sketches  (given  here)  are 
interesting  as  showing  how  a very  few  bare  lines  can  be 
made  to  indicate  unmistakably  the  characteristic  styles  of 
individual  masters,  such  as  Vandyck,  Poussin,  Greuze,  or  a 
Turner. 

Mrs.  Ruskin,  being  exceedingly  learned  in  Scottish  history, 
used  to  hold  forth  occasionally  on  the  doughty  deeds  of  the 
early  champions  of  liberty  and  Christianity,  and  delighted 
to  narrate  the  thrilling  adventures  of  Robert  Bruce,  of  the 


2 I 2 


JOHN  EVERETT  MILLAIS  [1853 

Crusaders,  and  of  all  the  heroes  of  Highland  chivalry. 
One  evening  Millais  pretending,  I regret  to  say,  to  have 
been  much  impressed  by  the  woes  and  afflictions  suffered 
by  Robert  the  Bruce  in  prison,  and  his  subsequent  adven- 
tures with  a fine  specimen  of  Arachne  vulgaris,  took  the 
sketch-book,  saying  that  so  important  a subject  required 
to  be  instantly  fixed  on  paper,  and  he  must  at  once  make 
a design  for  future  development.  If  the  reader  will  turn 


to  page  176,  he  will  see  how  it  was  that  tiffs  touching  subject 
never  found  its  way  to  the  walls  of  the  Academy.  The 
drawing,  however,  was  much  appreciated,  and  led  to  many 
similar  illustrations  of  Scottish  history,  such  as  the  siege 
of  Dunbar  Castle  by  the  English  the  adventures  of  Lord 
James  Douglas  in  the  Holy  Land,  the  siege  of  Acre,  etc. 
And  these  from  the  same  hand  that  painted  “The  Vale 
of  Rest”  and  “The  North-West  Passage!”  To  my  mind, 
they  are  as  characteristic  of  Millais  as  any  serious  work  of 
his.  There  is  force  and  reason  in  the  broadest  and  simplest 
lines,  to  say  nothing  of  the  genuine  humour  they  exhibit.* 

* Millais  showed  these  comic  sketches  to  Leech,  who  was  doubtless  somewhat 
influenced  by  them  in  his  subsequent  and  admirable  illustrations  for  The  Comic 
History  of  England  and  The  Comic  History  of  Rome. 


VIRTUE  AND  VICE.”  1853 
Line  and  Sepia  drawing 


*853] 


THE  ACADEMY  ELECTION 


2 1 5 


Before  parting  with  the  Ruskin  portrait,  he  repainted  the 
whole  of  the  background.  He  also  finished  at  the  same 
time  a little  picture  called  “ The  Highland  Lass,”  now  in 
the  possession  of  Mr.  Henry  Willett. 

One  of  the  keenest  disappointments  of  his  early  life 
occurred  in  1850,  when,  after  being  elected  to  the  honour 
of  an  Associate  of  the  Royal  Academy,  the  appointment 
was  quashed  on  the  ground  of  his  extreme  youth.  Since 


that  time,  as  he  could  not  but  know,  his  works  had  risen 
year  by  year  in  the  estimation  of  the  public,  but  as  yet  no 
official  recognition  of  their  merit  had  been  accorded  him  by 
the  Academy,  and  he  began  to  feel  somewhat  sore  at  this 
neglect.  He  was,  therefore,  more  than  usually  interested 
in  the  coming  election,  which  was  to  take  place  on  Novem- 
ber 7th,  1853.  Several  influential  Academicians  had 
promised  to  vote  for  him,  and,  though  himself  an  earnest 
supporter  of  authority  when  fairly  exercised,  he  was  not 
disposed  to  have  his  claim  overlooked  much  longer. 
Gambart  and  other  dealers,  knowing  that  his  pictures  were 
always  in  request,  had  already  made  him  tempting  offers 
to  exhibit  solely  with  them,  and  from  the  commercial  point 


2 1 6 


JOHN  EVERETT  MILLAIS 


[1853 


of  view  it  might  have  been  to  his  advantage  to  do  so;  but 
he  steadily  refused  to  entertain  the  idea  so  long  as  any  doubt 
remained  as  to  the  attitude  of  the  Academy. 

Another  reason  for  this  decision  was  that,  having  taken 

upon  himself  the  champion- 
ship of  Pre-Raphaelite  prin- 


to  make  the  Academy  ac- 
knowledge his  power  as  the 
chief,  if  not  the  only,  ex- 
ponent of  their  principles, 
now  that  Hunt  was  off  to 
the  East,  and  Rossetti  had 
wandered  away  on  his  own 
exclusive  line  ; and  if  he 
ceased  to  exhibit  there,  some 
of  those  whose  opinion  he 
valued  might  perhaps  think 
that  he  was  afraid  to  continue 
the  struggle. 

And  now  the  eventful  day 
approached.  But  let  William 
Millais  tell  the  tale  in  his 
own  words  : — “ On  the  day 
when  the  result  of  the  elec- 
tion of  Associates  at  the 
Royal  Academy  of  Arts  was 
to  be  made  known,  my 
brother,  self,  Wilkie  and 
Charlie  Collins  all  started 


Sir  Thomas  Acland  assisting  a Certain  Lady 
to  Paint  one  of  her  Pictures.  1853 


off  to  spend  a whole  day  in 
the  country  to  alleviate  our 
excitement.  Hendon  was  the  chosen  locality.  My  brother 
wore  a large  gold  goose  scarf-pin.  He  had  designed  a 
goose  for  himself  and  a wild  duck  for  me,  which  were  made 
by  Messrs.  Hunt  and  Roskell — exquisite  works  of  Art. 
We  had  spent  a very  jolly  day,  the  principal  topic  of 
conversation  being  the  coming  election,  Wilkie  Collins 
being  confident  that  Jack’s  usual  luck  would  attend  him 
and  that  he  would  certainly  be  returned  an  Associate  of 
the  Royal  Academy. 

“ We  had  been  walking  along  a narrow,  sandy  lane,  and, 
meeting  a large  three-horse  waggon,  had  stepped  aside  to 


ASSOCIATE  OF  THE  R.A. 


217 


1853] 


let  it  pass,  when  we  resumed  our  way,  and  shortly  afterwards 
Jack’s  pin  was  gone  ! ‘ Now,  Wilkie,’  said  my  brother,  ‘ how 

about  my  luck?  This  is  an  ominous  sign  that  I shall  not 
get  in.’  ‘Wait  a bit,  let ’s  go  back,’  said  Wilkie.  We  were 
all  quite  sure  that  he  had  it  on  on  leaving  Hendon.  Now, 
the  fact  of  a huge 


we  had  travelled  by 
golden  goose  again. 


waggon 
gave 


having 


ground 


ne  over  the 

us  very  little  hope  of  seeing  the 
A stipulated  distance  was  agreed  upon, 
and  black  we  all  trudged,  scanning  the  ground  minutely. 
I undertook  the  pacing.  The  waggon  had  ploughed  deep 
furrows  in  the  sand,  and  just  as  we  had  reached  the  end 
of  our  tether,  Jack  screamed  out,  ‘There  it  is,  by  Jove!’ 
And,  in  truth,  the  great  gold  goose  was  standing  perched 
on  a ridge  of  sand,  glistening  like  the  Koh-i-noor  itself.  We 
went  straight  to  the  Royal  Academy,  and  Charles  Landseer, 
coming  out,  greeted  my  brother  with,  ‘ Well,  Millais,  you 
are  in  this  time  in  earnest ,’  punning  on  his  name,  which  they 
had  entered  as  ‘ John  Ernest  Millais  ’ instead  of  John  Everett 
Millais.” 

It  was  on  the  day  following  the  election  that  D.  G. 
Rossetti  wrote  to  his  sister  Christina  ( Letters  of  D.  G. 
Rossetti  to  William  A llingham ) : — “ Millais,  I just  hear,  was 
last  night  elected  an  Associate ; 
so  now  the  whole  Round  Table 
is  dissolved” — meaning,  no  doubt 
that  Millais,  having  been  received 
into  the  fold  of  the  recognised 
authority,  would  cease  to  support 
the  heterodox  principles  he  had 
till  then  so  strongly  upheld.  But 
nothing  could  be  further  from  his 
thoughts. 

He  quietly  continued  his  work 
on  the  same  lines  till  i860, 
when  his  painting  of  minute 
detail  became  gradually  merged 
in  greater  breath  of  treatment. 

Look  at  the  landscape  in  “ Chill 
October”  (i875)and  “ The  Wood- 
man’s Daughter”  (1849).  The 
effect  is  the  same  ; only  the  mode 
of  expression  is  different.  He 
gained  the  technique  used  in  the 


r- j£u=r 

' v— ^ 


A Certain  Lady  Painting  one  of  hej? 
Religious  Pictures.  1853 


21 8 JOHN  EVERETT  MILLAIS  [is53 

first-named  picture  through  the  scholastic  and  self-imposed 
labour  of  the  second. 

Millais’  next  letter  is  in  reply  to  one  from  Mr.  Combe, 
inviting  him  to  stay  again  at  Oxford,  and  announcing  the 
joyful  fact  that  he  had  purchased  Hunt’s  great  picture, 
“ The  Light  of  the  World,”  a picture  which  Millais  greatly 
.admired. 


BATHING.  A SUPERFLUOUS  NECESSITY.  1853 


To  Mr.  Combe. 

“ 83  Gower  Street, 

“ Thursday  Evening,  December,  1853. 

“ My  dear  Mr.  Combe,  — I am  sorry  that  I cannot  possibly 
leave  town  next  week,  as  I find  I shall  be  required  by  the 
Royal  Academy  to  receive  my  diploma.  After  that,  I must 
really  set  about  working,  for  I must  get  something  done  for 
the  Exhibition.  . . . 

“ I called  to-day  upon  Sir  Charles  Eastlake,  the  President, 
and  he  told  me  I must  stay  in  London  for  the  Committee- 
meeting next  week,  which  is  not  fixed.  I congratulate  you 
on  having  bought  ‘The  Light  of  the  World.'  You  are  a 
sensible  man.  . . . 


EUPHEMIA  CHALMERS  GRAY  (Afterwards  Lady  Millais).  1853 
A pencil  drawing  made  by  herself  from  an  oil  painting  by  Millais 


1353] 


CORRESPONDENCE 


22  1 


“ I have  just  returned  from  dining  with  Ruskin’s  father, 
and  am  a little  tired  and  sleepy,  so  I must  finish  this ; for,  as 
a true  friend,  you  must  wish  me  to  go  to  bed.  Good-night. 
My  love  to  Mrs.  Pat. 

“ Yours  very  faithfully, 

“ John  Everett  Millais.” 


To  the  same. 

“ Fielding  Club, 

“ Henrietta  Street,  Covent  Garden, 

“ Monday , December  26th,  1853. 

“ My  dear  Mr.  Combe,  — I am  ashamed  of  myself  for  not 
having  written  to  you  before  this  to  explain  about  Hunt’s 
likeness  [drawn  by  himself].  I am  so  pleased  with  it  that, 
as  I have  no  other,  I must  keep  it  for  myself,  but  will  copy 
it  for  you  and  send  it  in  the  course  of  a week  or  two.  . . . 
I thought  you  were  going  to  accompany  Hunt  to  Syria. 
What  do  you  mean  by  neglecting  your  promise?  . . . Now 
that  Hunt  is  going  I don't  know  what  will  become  of  me. 

“ I hope  you  have  all  spent  a happy  Xmas,  a more  cheer- 
ful one  than  I spent;  for  I had  no  dinner,  and  was  strolling 
about  London  between  church  services.  In  the  morning 
I attended  Wells  Street,  and  in  the  evening  Dr.  Cummings 
— the  north  and  south  poles  of  religious  ceremony.  Cum- 
ming  is  a wonderful  man,  sincere  and  eloquent.  The  Scotch 
are  very  manly  and  honest.  I heard  a great  man  named 
Guthrie  in  Edinburgh  — the  finest  preacher  I ever  heard.  . . . 

“ Ever  yours, 

“John  Everett  Millais.” 


CHAPTER  VI 


i853-^55 


End  of  the  Pre-Raphaelite  Brotherhood  - Walter  Deverell  - His  illness  and  death 

- V ?oan  , r-UIiVn  ihe  E*st  “ L,etters  from  him  - “The  Scapegoat 
The  Blind  Girl  and  ‘ L Enfant  du  Regiment  ” — Winchelsea  — Thackeray 
writes  whilst  Millais  paints  — An  eccentric  vicar  — Success  of  “The  Blind 

r df«c1rlPVOIC°f,.it“John  Luard- Millais  in  Scotland  with 
Halhday,  Luard,  and  Charles  Collins  — Paris  Exhibition  of  185c  — The  English 
school  at  last  recognised  — How  “ The  Rescue  ” came  to  be  painted  — Letters 
fiom  Dmkens  Models  for  “ 1 he  Rescue  ” and  criticisms  on  it  — Appreciation 
by  Thomas  Spencei  Baynes  Millais  loses  his  temper  and  speaks  out- — Bene- 
ficial result  — F iremen  at  work  — Letters  from  William  Allingham  — Frederick 
Leighton. 


MILLAIS,  as  we  have  seen,  was  now  one  of  the  elect 
of  the  Royal  Academy,  and  his  picture,  “ The 
Huguenot,”  had  added  much  to  his  reputation  as  an  artist; 
but  it  is  quite  a mistake  to  assume,  as  so  many  writers  have 
done,  that  after  this  date  the  current  of  his  life  ran  smoothly 
on  without  any  serious  obstruction  or  impediment.  His 
great  fight  — perhaps  the  greatest  fight  of  all  — was  yet  to 
come;  and  as  1853  drew  to  a close,  the  elation  he  might 
otherwise  have  felt  was  restrained  by  circumstances  and 
considerations  of  no  small  moment  to  a man  of  his  sensitive 
nature.  Leading  members  of  the  Academy  were,  as  he 
well  knew,  prejudiced  against  him;  the  Press  continued  to 
jeer  at  him  as  an  enthusiast  in  a false  style  of  Art;  D.  G. 
Rossetti,  wounded  by  their  carping  and  insulting  criticism  of 
his  “Annunciation,”  had  retired  from  the  contest;  Walter 
Deverell,  a devoted  friend  of  Millais  and  an  ardent  sup- 
porter of  the  Pre-Raphaelite  movement,  was  seriously  ill ; 
and  now  that  Hunt,  his  greatest  and  strongest  ally,  was 
about  to  leave  for  the  East,  he  knew  that  upon  him  alone 
would  devolve  the  duty  of  maintaining  the  cause  to  which 
he  had  devoted  his  life  as  an  artist.  Charlie  Collins,  it  is 
true,  was  still  with  him,  and  in  “ Mike”  Halhday  and  Leech 
he  had  found  other  firm  and  faithful  friends;  but,  highly 


>§53] 


WALTER  DEVERELL 


223 


skilled  as  these  three  men  were,  both  as  artists  and  con- 
noisseurs, they  could  hardly  be  expected  to  share  the 
enthusiasm  of  himself  and  Hunt  for  a cause  which  they  had 
made  so  peculiarly  their  own.  Individual  Pre-Raphaelites, 
such  as  Collinson,  Hughes,  and  others,  were  doing  good 


“WAITING  ” 


work,  and  the  Academy  did  not  exclude  their  paintings 
at  the  annual  exhibitions;  but  the  Brotherhood  itself  no 
longer  existed  in  its  old  form  as  a body  of  associated 
workers.  It  had  become,  indeed,  as  Hunt  says  in  one  of 
his  letters,  “ a solemn  mockery,  and  died  of  itself.” 

A few  words  about  Walter  Deverell  may  not  be  out  of 
place  here;  for,  apart  from  Millais’  affection  for  him,  as 


224  JOHN  EVERETT  MILLAIS  [isS3 

evidenced  by  the  following  letters,  he  was  a youth  of  rare 
character  and  great  gifts,  who  yet,  like  poor  Chatterton, 
ended  his  life  in  the  deepest  depths  of  poverty.  On  the 
death  of  his  father  in  1S53  he  struggled  hard  to  maintain 
not  only  himself,  but  his  brothers  and  sisters  by  the  sale 
of  his  pictures;  but,  some  two  years  before  his  own  death, 
his  health  began  to  give  way,  and  at  last  failed  altogether 
under  the  distress  of  finding  it  impossible  to  keep  the  home 
together.  Consumption  set  in,  and  early  in  1854  he  passed 
away.  It  was  only  a few  weeks  before  this  that  Millais 
discovered  the  dire  necessity  of  his  friend,  when  he  hastened 
at  once  to  his  relief.  Without  saying  a word  to  him,  he 
took  steps  to  secure  the  sale  of  his  last  picture.  Two  of 
the  Pre-Raphaelite  Brothers  sent  a stranger  to  buy  it,  and 
in  ignorance  of  this  little  ruse,  poor  Deverell  rejoiced  in 
being  able  to  provision  his  household  and  stave  off  the 
reaper  for  at  least  a short  time  longer.  Referring  to  this 
incident,  Holman  Hunt  says:  — “Millais  came  to  me  one 
day  and  said,  ‘ Deverell  is  in  great  straits.  Let  us  buy  his 
picture.  Will  you  give  half,  if  I do  ? ’ So  the  picture 
was  bought,  and  Deverell  for  the  while  tided  over  his 
financial  difficulties.” 

As  to  the  man  himself,  Mr.  Arthur  Hughes  has  given 
us  an  account  in  The  Letters  of  D.  G.  Rossetti  to  William 
Allingkam.  He  describes  him  as  “a  manly  young  fellow, 
with  a feminine  beauty  added  to  his  manliness;  exquisite 
manners  and  a most  affectionate  disposition.  He  died  early, 
after  painting  two  or  three  pictures.  Had  he  lived  he 
would  have  been  a poetic  painter,  but  not  a strong  one. 
Millais,  hardworking  and  ambitious  though  he  was,  used  to 
sit  hour  after  hour  by  his  bedside,  reading  to  him.” 

The  following  letters  tell  their  own  tale.  Millais  appealed 
to  the  Combes  for  help  for  his  friend,  and  they  responded 
with  characteristic  kindness  of  heart:  — 


To  Mrs.  Combe. 

“ 83  Gower  Street, 

'•  December  30 ///,  1S53. 

“ My  dear  Mrs.  Pat, — I have  a young  friend,  an  artist  of 
the  name  of  Deverell  (maybe  Hunt  has  spoken  to  you  about 
him).  He  is  very  clever,  but  unfortunately  will  never  have 
strength  again  sufficient  to  follow  his  profession.  He  is 


WALTER  DEVERELL 


225 


1853] 

given  up  for  lost  by  three  doctors,  but  may  last  through  the 
winter  with  great  care.  He  has  no  mother  alive,  and  his 
father  died  about  four  months  ago,  leaving  him  in  destitution, 
with  a family  of  little  brothers  and  sisters  to  support.  The 
efforts  he  made  to  this  end,  I expect,  hastened  on  internal 
disease,  and  now  he  is  confined  to  his  bed. 

“ Besides  his  own  melancholy  illness,  a poor  little  girl, 
about  eight  years  of  age,  was,  soon  after  the  father’s  death, 
struck  with  paralysis  in  the  right  arm,  the  use  of  which  she 
has  lost  for  life.  Indeed,  there  seems  to  be  a curse  upon  the 
family.  The  father  was  a very  learned  man,  but  a deter- 
mined atheist,  and  died  without  altering  his  opinions.  His 
behaviour  was  frightfully  cruel  to  his  now  dying  son.  He 
would  never  permit  his  children  to  attend  church,  turning 
religion  into  ridicule  upon  all  occasions.  My  poor  friend  is 
so  careless  of  himself,  and  his  eldest  sister  is  so  unfit  to 
nurse  him,  that  I write  to  ask  you  whether  you  can  assist 
me  in  any  way  by  recommending  a good,  kind  person  who 
could  read  to  him,  and  see  to  his  taking  his  meals  punctually 
— only  bread  and  milk.  Last  night  I was  with  him,  and  was 
grieved  to  see  the  apathy  of  the  servant  and  his  sister,  who 
had  been  out  that  night  to  a dance,  and  was  now  gone  to 
bed!  There  was  no  fire  in  the  room,  and  the  invalid  was 
hanging  partly  out  of  his  bed,  with  his  hands  as  cold  as  ice. 

. . . I am  going  there  again  to-night,  to  amuse  him.  It  is 
almost  cruel  to  tell  him  of  his  danger,  as  he  is  so  alive  to 
the  distress  that  will  come  upon  his  family  in  the  event  of 
his  dying;  therefore,  I have  not  spoken  upon  the  subject, 
neither  have  the  medical  men,  who  seem  to  think  he  should 
be  kept  as  cheerful  as  possible.  Until  now  he  has  declined 
having  a nurse,  because  of  the  expense,  but  I have  per- 
suaded him,  as  I would  rather  pay  for  the  woman  myself 
than  let  him  continue  to  be  neglected.  ...  I spoke  to 
Ruskin  about  him,  and  he  has  been  extremely  kind,  his 
father  sending  him  chicken  and  jellies,  but  these  he  cannot 
touch  himself,  as  he  is  obliged  to  live  upon  milk  and  toast. 

. . . Next  spring  I purpose  leaving  England  for  the  Con- 
tinent, as  I am  sick  of  this  rain  and  freezing  climate. 

“I  shall  take  it  as  a favour  if  you  will  inquire  quietly  for 

me  about  a nurse  for  D , as  he  is  gradually  wasting  away 

and  I should  like  him  to  be  more  comfortable. 

“ Ever  yours, 

“John  Everett  Millais.” 

1 — 15 


226 


JOHN  EVERETT  MILLAIS 


[1854 


To  Mr.  Combe. 

“83  Gower  Street, 

“January,  1854. 

“ My  dear  Mr.  Combe,  — I have  made  a drawing  of  Hunt, 
which  I think  you  will  find  very  like.  It  is  not  a copy  of 
the  one  I have,  but  another  I drew  on  Sunday  evening.  I 
will  get  it  framed  for  you  (as  it  would  rub,  sent  as  it  is),  and 
forward  it  as  soon  as  it  is  out  of  the  frame-makers’  hands.  . . . 
I shall  see  Deverell  this  evening.  He  would  not  see  Mr. 
Stuart,  when  I mentioned  it  to  him.  He  has  some  relations, 
clergymen,  whom  he  says  he  can  see  whenever  he  wishes. 

“ To-day  I was  expecting  Ruskin  to  sit  to  me  for  his 
portrait,  which  I was  painting  in  the  Highlands. 

“ Hunt  goes  now  either  to-night  or  to-morrow.  I shall  not 
believe  he  is  gone  until  Mrs.  Bradshaw,  his  landlady,  says  he 
is  not  at  home.  I never  knew  such  a fellow  ; his  room  looks 
as  though  it  had  been  given  over  to  the  tender  care  of  a dozen 
monkeys  in  his  absence.  Ever  yours, 

“ John  Everett  Millais.” 

To  Mrs.  Combe. 

“ 83  Gower  Street, 

“ February  yd,  1854. 

“My  dear  Mrs.  Pat, — I have  just  come  from  inquiring 
after  Deverell,  who  died  whilst  I was  in  the  house.  I sent 
(for  I could  not  see  him)  a message  urging  him  to  see  a 
clergyman,  but  when  the  cousin  who  had  been  with  him  got 
to  the  door  of  his  room  she  found  it  locked,  and  ascertained 
from  the  nurse  within  that  all  was  over. 

“This  same  lady  had  often  desired  him  to  permit  the  visit 
of  a clergyman,  but  without  obtaining  his  consent.  Latterly 
he  would  not,  or  rather  could  not,  listen  to  what  was  said  to 
him.  ...  I did  my  best  to  prevail,  but  he  always  declined. 
He  was  quite  sensible,  and  received  most  calmly  the  news  of 
his  coming  death. 

“ I have  had  a most  amusing  letter  from  Hunt.  He  seems 
to  have  really  reached  Marseilles,  but  of  course  not  without 
disasters,  one  of  which  was  the  breaking  of  a bottle  of 
varnish  in  his  portmanteau,  which  obliged  him  to  unpack 
everything,  and  to  wash  the  compartment  before  replacing 
the  things.  Ever  yours  most  truly, 

“John  Everett  Millais.” 


“RETRIBUTION.”  1854 
Line  and  Sepia  drawing 


HOLMAN  HUNT 


229 


1854] 

After  this  came  a long  series  of  letters  from  Holman 
Hunt,  dated  from  various  parts  of  Egypt  and  Palestine, 
where  in  1854  and  1856  he  was  engaged  in  collecting 
materials  for  his  pictures,  and  produced,  amongst  other 
works,  that  magnificent  painting,  “ The  Scapegoat.”  These 
letters,  Pre-Raphaelite  in  detail  and  often  admirably  illus- 
trated, are  full  of  interest,  not  only  as  a record  of  his 
wanderings  in  the  East  and  the  adventures  he  met  with, 


PRINCE  CHARLIE  IN  A HIGHLAND  FARMHOUSE 
Pencil  design.  Circ.  1854. 


but  as  a reflex  of  his  observant  mind  and  his  constant 
solicitude  for  his  friends  at  home.  P'or  Millais  more  par- 
ticularly they  betray  a warmth  of  interest  that  could  only 
exist  between  such  congenial  and  affectionate  friends.  But 
I must  necessarily  limit  myself  here  to  such  of  them  as 
refer  more  especially  to  the  subject  of  this  memoir,  or  to 
matters  in  which  they  were  mutually  interested. 

Writing  from  Cairo  in  1854,  he  says: — “ I hope  you  will 
come  out  in  the  autumn.  Seddon  (an  artist  friend)  will  have 
gone  back  by  then,  and  I will  have  made  some  way  into 
the  language,  if  possible.  I am  very  likely  to  remain  abroad 
for  a year  or  two,  for  it  is  impossible  to  do  any  good  in 


230  JOHN  EVERETT  MILLAIS  [i854 

merely  passing  through  a country,  particularly  when  one 
has  so  many  prejudices  to  overcome  as  exist  here.  I wish 
we  could  meet  abroad  to  work  and  travel  together  for  a 
good  while,  with  occasionally  another  or  two  for  companions 
— Halliday  for  one.  The  advantage  of  being  away  from 
London  is  that  riddance  from  bores,  personal  and  impersonal, 
one  meets  with  there,  and  (with  one  or  two  intimates  at 
hand)  the  possibility  of  keeping  all  wandering  ones  at  bay 
might  be  attained.  I don’t  feel  certain  as  to  the  best 
place  to  remain  in.  This  may  be  the  most  convenient  and 
practicable,  but  my  inclination  points  to  Beirout,  or  some 
other  quarter  where  God's  works  are  more  prominent  than 
those  of  man. 

“ Certainly  cultivate  a beard.  I am  persuaded  to  over- 
come my  Anglican  prejudice  in  favour  of  a clean  chin. 
I should  not  do  so,  however,  if  I found  it  disguised  my 
nationality,  for  that  is  worth  every  other  protection  one 
travels  with.  It  compels  cringing  obedience  and  fear 
from  every  native,  even  a dog.  With  this,  indeed,  and  a 
stick,  or,  in  fact,  with  only  a fist,  I would  undertake  to 
knock  down  any  two  Arabs  in  the  Esbekir  and  walk  away 
unmolested,  and  even  with  the  hope  that  they  should  be 
well  bastinadoed  for  having  given  me  so  much  voluntary 
trouble.” 

There  would  be  very  few  artists  in  London  if  they  had 
such  difficulties  in  procuring  models  as  poor  Hunt  had  to 
face  in  1854.  Writing  from  Cairo,  in  March  of  that  year, 
he  says : — “I  wish  my  attempts  to  get  models  had  been 
encouraging  in  the  result.  Bedouins  may  be  hired  in  twenties 
and  thirties,  merely  by  paying  them  a little  more  than  their 
usually  low  rate  of  wages,  and  these  are  undoubtedly  the 
finest  men  in  the  place ; but  when  one  requires  the  men  of 
the  city,  or  the  women,  the  patience  of  an  omnibus-man 
going  up  Piccadilly  with  two  jibbing  horses  on  an  Exhibi- 
tion-day is  required.  I have  made  the  attempt  to  get  a 
woman  to  sit,  until,  at  the  end  of  a fortnight  or  three  weeks, 
I have  realised  nothing  but  despair,  although  I have  spared 
no  pains  and  have  prejudiced  my  moral  reputation  to  achieve 
my  purpose.  The  first  chance  my  servant  discovered,  I 
knew  it  would  not  do  to  inquire  too  narrowly  into  the 
character  of  the  people  ; so  I followed  him  without  question 
into  a house  where  at  every  door  there  was  a fresh  investiga- 
tion of  myself,  in  such  sort  as  to  make  it  appear  a matter 


HOLMAN  HUNT 


231 


1854] 


of  the  greatest  good  fortune  when  I found  myself  at  the 
top  of  the  house  entering  the  guest-room.  This  was  a small 
chamber  without  much  furniture,  but  surrounded  with  divan 
seats  in  front  of  a lattice-work  mushrabee,  where  people  sit 
for  the  cool  air  in  the  heat  of  the  day.  No  one  was  present, 
so  I had  leisure  to  examine  the  objects  in  the  room  and 
speculate  upon  the  beauty  of  the  houris  of  the  establish- 
ment, and  to  make  some  study  of  the  manner  in  which  I 


THE  PRISONER’S  WIFE 


would  arrange  the  sketch  which  I should  have  to  do  that 
same  day.  And  here  I heard  women’s  voices  outside. 
Several  entered  veiled.  With  but  only  about  twenty  words 
of  Arabic  and  a great  deal  of  impatience,  I could  not  afford 
much  ceremony,  so  after  I had  fired  off  the  nineteen  I 
thought  it  time  to  walk  up  to  the  most  graceful  figure,  utter  the 
remaining  word, ‘yea  bint,’ and  lift  up  her  veil  — a proceeding 
for  which  they  were  scarcely  prepared.  The  shy  ‘ daughter 
of  the  full  moon  ’ squinted ; and  on  turning  to  others,  I 


232  JOHN  EVERETT  MILLAIS  [,s54 

discovered  that  Nature  had  blessed  each  with  some  such 
invaluable  departure  from  the  monotony  of  ideal  perfection. 

“ ‘ The  evening  star’  had  lost  her  front  teeth,  ‘ the  sister 
of  the  sun’  had  several  gashes  in  her  cheek,  while  ‘the 
mother  of  the  morning  ’ had  a face  in  pyramid  shape. 
I told  my  man  to  express  my  regret  that  heaven  had  not 
bestowed  on  me  enough  talent  to  do  justice  to  that  order 
of  beauty,  by  shying  some  backsheesh  to  the  old  woman, 
while  I took  one  by  the  neck  and  gently  hurled  her  on  to  the 
floor  for  having  attempted  to  intercept  my  passage  by  the 
door.  A fight  with  a man  or  two  in  going  downstairs  and 
an  encounter  with  several  dogs  in  the  yard,  and  I found 
myself  in  the  street,  with  my  man  behind  me  in  a state  of 
utter  bewilderment  at  the  turn  affairs  had  taken.  The  next 
day  I applied  to  the  wife  of  the  English  missionary,  who 
replied  that  it  was  a matter  of  the  greatest  difficulty.  She 
had  once  induced  a girl  to  sit,  but  then  it  was  to  a clergy- 
man. Perhaps  it  might  be  possible  to  get  her  again  for 
me,  but  not  at  present,  for  it  was  a great  fast,  which  was 
observed  at  home  indoors,  and,  moreover,  she  herself  was 
just  setting  out  for  Mount  Sinai  for  two  or  three  months, 
and  without  her  presence  in  the  room  nothing  could  be  done. 
The  day  after  this  I persuaded  my  landlord  to  exert  him- 
self, which  ended  in  his  procuring  me  a lady  as  ugly 
as  a daguerrotype,  whom  I dismissed  after  I had  blunted 
my  pencil  in  my  sketch-book.  In  the  afternoon  I had 
another  woman  seized,  who  turned  out  to  be  uglier  than 
any  I had  seen.  All  the  public  women  seem  to  be  chosen 
to  show  the  repulsiveness  of  vice  at  first  glance  — a wise 
system  that  deserves  more  success  than  it  would  seem  to 
meet.  There  are  beautiful  women  here.  In  the  country 
the  fellah  girls  wear  no  veils  and  but  very  little  dress,  and 
these  in  their  prime  are  perhaps  the  most  graceful  creatures 
you  could  see  anywhere.  In  prowling  about  the  village  one 
day  I came  face  to  face  with  one  of  them,  and  could  not 
but  stop  and  stare  at  her.  She  could  not  pass,  and  when 
I saw  this  I thought  some  apology  was  necessary.  Seddon’s 
Hippopotamus*  was  with  me,  but  I only  explained  my 
desire  to  him  without  further  satisfaction  than  could  be  got 
by  his  going  through  his  complete  lesson  with  all  its  varia- 
tions of  ‘ Vare  kood,  ser ; yes,  ser,  vare  kood,  ser ; tiab 
contere  quies  vare  kood,  ser.’ 

* A fat  dragoman. 


1 


§*?•••  / 


THE  GHOST.”  1853 
Pen  drawing 


XJ  -3 


■ 


1854] 


HOLMAN  HUNT 


235 


“ Good-bye,  old  fellow.  Commend  my  memory  most 

kindly  to  your  mother  and  father  and  brother,  and  all 
other  friends.  I am  afraid  I cannot  write  to  the  Collins’s 
at  once,  for  I want  to  settle  to  work  first.  Remember  me 
to  them  affectionately.  I will  enclose  a note  to  jolly  old 
Halliday.  I have  a good  excuse  for  not  writing  many 
letters,  for,  besides  the  engagements  which  one  finds  abroad, 
I have  the  plea  of  great  difficulty  in  getting  them  posted. 
One  cannot  pay  postage  here,  and  I have  to  get  them  con- 
veyed by  hand  to  Alexandria  for  that  purpose.  God  defend 
you  always! — Yours,  W.  Holman  Hunt.” 

All  through  the  summer,  autumn,  and  winter  of  1S54 
Hunt  remained  in  Jerusalem,  encountering  many  difficulties 
and  not  a little  personal  danger.  Writing  from  there  on 
November  10th,  he  expresses  his  delight  at  hearing  from 
Millais,  adding:  — “It  may  be  interesting  to  you  to  know 
that  my  tent  was  pitched  on  the  plain  of  Mamre,  under  a 
tree  still  called  ‘Abraham’s  Tree,’  where  he  entertained  the 
three  angels.  (The  tree,  however,  though  an  immense  and 
ancient  one,  has  no  just  claim  to  the  dignity.)  Here  I lay 
down  in  the  middle  of  the  day,  and  took  out  your  letters  — 
Halliday ’s  and  your  own — which  I had  brought  with  me, 
and  re-read  them  again  with  a delight  which  made  every 
word  like  pure  water  to  a thirsty  soul.  I could  remember 
Winchelsea  so  clearly,  all  our  walks  there  together,  and  our 
meal  at  the  inn,  and  I could  imagine  you  and  jolly  Halliday 
working  there  within  sight  and  sound  of  the  sea.  And  how 
I could  have  joyed  to  be  with  you,  to  talk  together  for  a 
few  hours!  Some  day  again  I hope  to  see  you,  and  not 
long  hence.  A few  months,  and  1 shall  look  for  spring  and 
England  together.  I am  often  sorry  that  you  are  no  longer 
in  Gower  Street,  for  I cannot  picture  you  returned  to  town, 
in  a strange  studio,  and  merry  Halliday  away  from  Robert 
Street.  I he  idea  is  almost  like  losing  you,  for  the  picture 
of  a pretty  cottage  at  Kingston  is  not  drawn  from  Nature, 
and  may  lie  all  wrong. 

“ After  all,  your  letter  was  full  of  sad  incidents,  notably 
the  horrible  death  of  the  landlord  of  the  inn.  Such  things 
make  one  despair  of  the  world.  Six  thousand  years,  and 
so  much  evil ! I think  people  look  on  and  moralise  too 
much.  Sometimes  I have  an  idea  of  an  active  future,  in 
the  fall  of  everything  decent  and  respectable.  I hope  we 
may  devise  some  means  of  serving  God  together.  I am 


23 6 JOHN  EVERETT  MILLAIS  [iss4 

in  gloom  sometimes  as  to  the  capacity  of  Art;  but  I 
have  no  permanent  despondency  on  the  subject.  It  must 
be  equally  strong  as  an  instrument  of  either  good  or  evil, 
and  of  the  latter  one  cannot  doubt  its  power. 

“ Halliday  told  me  your  subject  (‘  The  Blind  Girl  ’),  which 
I think  a very  beautiful  one.  It  is  an  incident  such  as  makes 
people  think  and  love  more.  It  is  wrong  to  doubt  of  the 
good,  after  one  has  become  convinced  enough  to  take  a 
subject  in  hand.  I went  over  all  your  news  and  your 
reflections  ; and,  to  realise  the  idea  of  our  being  together, 
I used  Halliday’s  envelope  to  make  cigarettes  with,  and 
fancied  you  through  the  fumes.  . . . 

“ For  the  next  week  or  two  I shall  be  stationed  about 
sixty  miles  from  Jerusalem,  and  with  no  means  of  des- 
patching letters  thence  or  communicating  with  any  human 
being  above  a wild  Arab.  The  prospect  is  sufficiently 
dreary,  to  say  the  least  of  it,  but  I am  tempted  to  it  for 
the  sake  of  a serious  subject  that  has  come  into  my  head, 
for  the  next  exhibition  of  the  Academy.  ...  In  Leviticus 
xvi.  20  you  will  read  an  account  of  the  scapegoat  sent  away 
into  the  wilderness,  bearing  all  the  sins  of  the  children  of 
Israel,  which,  of  course,  was  instituted  as  a type  of  Christ. 
My  notion  is  to  represent  this  accursed  animal  with  the 
mark  of  the  priest’s  hands  on  his  head,  and  a scarlet  ribbon 
which  was  tied  to  him,  escaped  in  horror  and  alarm  to 
the  plain  of  the  Dead  Sea,  and  in  a death-thirst  turning 
away  from  the  bitterness  of  this  sea  of  sin.  If  I can  contend 
with  the  difficulties  and  finish  the  picture  at  Usdoom,  it 
cannot  fail  to  be  interesting,  if  only  as  a representation  of 
one  of  the  most  remarkable  spots  in  the  world ; and  I 
am  sanguine  that  it  maybe  further  a means  of  leading  any 
reflecting  lews  to  see  a reference  to  the  Messiah  as  He  was, 
and  not  (as  they  understand)  a temporal  king. 

“ My  last  journey  was  to  discover  an  appropriate  place 
for  the  scene,  and  this  I found  only  at  the  southern  extremity 
of  the  lake  where  the  beach  is  thickly  encrusted  with  salt, 
and  notwithstanding  a remarkable  beauty,  there  is  an  air 
of  desolation  . . . exclusively  belonging  to  it.  Usdoom  is 
a name  applied  to  a mountain  standing  in  the  plain,  which 
from  the  resemblance  in  sound  is  thought  to  be  part  of 
Sodom.  Its  greater  part  is  pure  salt,  which  drips  through 
into  long  pendants  whenever  the  water  descends.” 

After  referring  to  the  victories  of  the  allied  troops  at 


iS54] 


HOLMAN  HUNT’S  RETURN 


237 


Balaclava  ancl  Alma,  he  continues:  — “ I am  beyond  every- 
thing gratified  at  seeing  that  God  has  not  taken  away  the 
lion  hearts  and  the  strong  arms  from  English  and  Scotch. 
War  is  horrible,  but  not  less  justifiable,  to  my  mind,  than 
the  slaying  of  animals  for  food,  which  is  also  revolting,  when 
considered  independent  of  the  necessity.” 

Writing  again  on  January  24th,  1855,  Hunt  says:  — “I 
wonder  how  you  all  go  on  in  London.  No  Pre-Raphaelite 
Brotherhood  meetings,  of  course.  The  thing  was  a solemn 
mockery  two  or  three  years  past,  and  died  of  itself.  . . . 
I shall  be  glad  to  leave  this 
unholy  land,  beautiful  and  in- 
teresting as  it  is.  Never  did 
people  deserve  to  lose  their 
empire  so  thoroughly  as  these 
Arabs.  If  they  were  left  alone 
for  a few  years,  they  would  com- 
plete the  work  themselves.” 

The  concluding  words  of  this 
letter  are  so  quaintly  redolent  of  — ■ 
the  scriptural  air  he  was  then 
breathing,  that  it  would  be  quite  a 
sin  to  omit  them  : — “ Remember 
me  most  kindly  to  your  mother 
and  father  and  brother  of  happy 
memory,  and  greet  all  my  other 
friends  of  an  inquiring  turn  of  >4  • 

mind,  of  whom  I regard  Mrs.  ^ 

Collins  as  president.  Remember 

me  to  the  secretary,  also  Wilkie,  *** 

and  salute  Charley  brotherly  (tell 

him  I hope  to  bring  him  an  Arab  scalp  even  yet),  also 
Stephens,  to  whom  I cannot  write  this  time.  Thank  him 
for  the  newspaper  he  sends  me.  I hope  you  get  on  well 
with  your  pictures.  I am  working  like  a baby  in  the  Art.” 
In  the  spring  the  traveller  was  back  in  England  again,  and 
then  their  delightful  meetings  were  once  more  resumed. 

I must  now  hark  back  to  the  beginning  of  1854,  when 
Millais  had  in  mind  two  pictures  — “The  Blind  Girl”  and 
“ L’Enfant  du  Regiment”  (or,  as  it  is  more  commonly 
called,  “The  Random  Shot”) — both  of  which  he  was 
anxious  to  commence  at  once,  and  to  paint  concurrently. 
I he  latter  demanded  as  a background  the  interior  of  a 


238 


JOHN  EVERETT  MILLAIS 


[1854 


church,  and  for  some  time  during  the  autumn  he  roved  about 
in  search  of  one  suitable  to  his  purpose.  At  last,  on  the 
recommendation  of  a friend,  he  started  for  Winchelsea, 
accompanied  by  Mike  Halliday,  and  there  he  was  fortunate 
enough  to  find  what  he  wanted  in  the  old  Priory  Church 
of  Icklesham,  about  a mile  away,  and  in  the  same  neigh- 
bourhood the  landscape  he  required  for  “ The  Blind  Girl.” 
But  first  he  must  settle  the  point  of  view  from  which 
to  paint  the  interior ; to  which  end  he  visited  the  church 
on  several  consecutive  days.  At  length  the  sexton’s  curiosity 
was  excited  as  to  the  object  of  this  mysterious  visitor,,  and 

he  asked  him  what  he  wanted. 
“Oh,”  said  Millais,  “ I want  to 
paint  the  church.”  “ Well,  then, 
young  man,”  replied  the  sexton, 
“you  need  not  hang  about  here 
any  longer,  for  the  church  was 
all  done  up  fresh  last  year.”  It 
is  an  old-told  tale,  this,  for 
1 1 Thackeray  got  hold  of  it,  and 

‘ ft  told  it  at  the  clubs;  but  it  is 

none  the  less  true.  I have 
heard  my  father  tell  it  himself. 

Another  tale  about  this  Win- 
chelsea expedition  is  also  worth 
repeating.  About  a month  after 
Millais’  arrival  Thackeray  ap- 
peared on  the  scene,  and  the 
two  worked  together,  Millais 
painting  while  Thackeray  went  on  with  Denis  Duval , that 
fragment  of  a fine  novel,  unhappily  left  unfinished,  in  which 
the  principal  character  was  drawn  from  Millais  himself.  While 
thus  engaged  they  were  not  altogether  unobserved.  To 
borrow  a line  from  one  of  Thackeray’s  most  amusing  ballads, 
“ A gent  had  got  his  i on  ’em,”  the  “ gent  ” being  an  eccentric 
old  clergyman  of  the  neighbourhood  who  looked  in  now  and 
then,  and  one  Sunday  morning  appeared  in  the  pulpit  when 
they  were  in  church.  They  were  sitting  right  in  front  of  him, 
and  this  dear  old  divine,  catching  sight  of  Millais,  directed 
his  discourse  to  the  comparative  beauties  of  Nature  and  Art. 
There  was  no  mistaking  what  he  meant,  for,  warming  up  as 
he  went  along,  he  punctuated  his  remarks  by  personal  appeals 
to  the  artist  as  to  the  inferiority  of  man’s  work  to  God’s. 


<71 


.r<»^  v 


tL&k' 


“THE  RANDOM  SHOT’’ 


239 


1854] 

Leaning  over  the  pulpit  with  outstretched  hands,  and  eyes 
fixed  on  Millais,  he  cried  aloud,  “Can  you  paint  that?  Can 
you  paint  that  ? ” And  then,  turning  to  the  congregation  as 
he  slowly  drew  himself  upright,  he  added  in  solemn  tones, 
“No,  my  brethren,  he  cannot  paint  that."  Again  and  again 
this  embarrassing  scene  was  repeated,  until  at  last  Millais  and 
his  friend  became  almost  hysterical  in  the  effort  to  suppress 
their  laughter. 

Coming  now  to  the  painting  which  led  to  these  sensational 
incidents,  “ The  Random  Shot,” 

1 am  glad  to  avail  myself  of 
Mr.  F.  C.  Stephens’  description 
of  it  in  the  following  words:  — 

“ This  small  picture  represents 
an  incident  in  the  French 
Revolution,  where  some  of  the 
populace,  attacking  a church 
which  is  defended  by  the  mili- 
tary, have  accidentally  wounded 
a soldier’s  child  who  had  been 
taken  there  for  safety.  The 
little  one,  wrapped  in  his  father’s 
coat,  has  just  sobbed  itself  to 
sleep  on  the  tomb  of  a knight, 
where  the  child  had  been  laid 
out  of  further  danger;  the  tears 
of  pain  have  ceased  to  trickle 
down  its  face,  and  its  sobbings  tic 

have  found  rest  in  sleep.  The 
tomb  is  of  alabaster,  mostly  of 

pure  white,  but  dashed  and  streaked  with  pearly  fawn  and 
grey  tints,  according  to  the  nature  of  the  material,  which 
acquires  from  time  an  inner  tint  of  saffron  and  pale  gold. 
The  tale  of  ‘ The  Random  Shot  ’ is  explained  by  showing 
some  soldiers  firing  out  of  a window  of  the  church.” 

The  tomb  on  which  the  child  is  lying  is  that  of  Gervaise 
Allard,  knight,  one  of  the  many  beautiful  works  of  art  still 
to  be  seen  in  the  old  church  at  Icklesham.  Dante  Rossetti 
was  probably  right  in  saying  that  the  artist’s  first  idea  was  to 
depict  the  scene  as  taking  place  in  a church  besieged  by 
Cromwell,  for  several  of  the  sketches  in  my  possession 
suggest  more  forcible  and  warlike  movement  than  is  to  be 
found  in  the  picture  itself.  The  child,  too,  was  originally 


240 


JOHN  EVERETT  MILLAIS 


[1854 


painted  in  several  attitudes  before  that  of  repose  was 
selected. 

“ The  Blind  Girl,”  a still  more  pathetic  subject,  is  described 
by  Spielmann  as  “ the  most  luminous  with  bright  golden  light 
of  all  Millais’  works,  and  for  that  reason  the  more  deeply 
pathetic  in  relation  to  the  subject.  Madox  Brown  was  right 
when  he  called  it  a ‘ religious  picture,  and  a glorious  one,’  for 
Gods  bow  is  in  the  sky,  doubly  — a sign  of  Divine  promise 
specially  significant  to  the  blind.  Rossetti  called  it  ‘ one  of 
the  most  touching  and  perfect  things  I know,’  and  the  Liver- 
pool Academy  endorsed  his  opinion  by  awarding  to  it  their 

annual  prize,  although  the  public 
generally  favoured  Abraham 
Solomon’s  ‘ Waiting  for  the 
Verdict.’  Sunlight  seems  to 
issue  from  the  picture,  and 
bathes  the  blind  sfirl  — blind 

o 

alike  to  its  glow,  to  the  beauties 
of  the  symbolic  butterfly  that 
has  settled  upon  her,  and  to 
the  token  in  the  sky.  The 
<2 main  rainbow  is  doubtless  too 
& strong  and  solid.  Millais  him- 

self told  the  story  of  how,  not 
knowing  that  the  second  rain- 
bow is  not  really  a ‘ double  ’ 
one,  but  only  a reflection  of  the 
first,  he  did  not  reverse  the  order 
of  its  colours  as  he  should  have 
done,  and  how,  when  it  was  pointed  out  to  him,  he  put  the 
matter  right,  and  was  duly  feed  for  so  doing.  But  the  error 
is  a common  one.  I have  seen  it  in  pictures  by  Troyon  and 
others,  students  of  Nature  all  their  lives,  who  yet  had  never 
accurately  observed.  The  precision  of  handling  is  as  re- 
markable as  ever,  and  the  surrounding  collection  of  birds  and 
beasts  evinces  extraordinary  draughtsmanship.” 

In  1898,  when  the  picture  was  seen  again  in  the  midst  of 
Millais’  other  Pre-Raphaelite  works,  nearly  all  the  critics 
agreed  that,  for  a general  balance  of  qualities,  it  should  take 
the  first  place  in  the  collection;  the  Spectator  remarking  that: 
“Nowhere  else  in  the  whole  range  of  his  works  did  the 
painter  produce  such  a beautiful  piece  of  landscape.  The 
picture  is  full  of  truth  and  full  of  beauty,  and  the  grass  glows 


L+-  - ^ - /wZ“4 

L 


f 


*7 


■» 


> 


“THE  BLIND  GIRL” 


241 


1854] 

and  sparkles  in  the  sunlight  after  the  storm.  The  colour 
throughout  is  as  brilliant  as  paint  can  make  it,  but  perfectly 
harmonious  at  the  same  time.  Of  quite  equal  beauty  are  the 
two  figures,  the  blind  musician  and  her  child  companion,  and 
the  pathos  is  so  admirably  kept  in  its  proper  place  that  it  is 
really  touching.  There  is  a true  humanity  about  this  picture 
as  well  as  great  artistic  qualities.” 

But  best  of  all  is  Mr.  Ruskin’s  refined  and  accurate  descrip- 
tion of  the  picture.  He  says  : — “ The  background  is  an  open 
English  common,  skirted  by  the  tidy  houses  of  a well-to-do 
village  in  the  cockney  rural  districts.  I have  no  doubt  the 
scene  is  a real  one  within  some  twenty  miles  from  London, 


and  painted  mostly  on  the  spot.  A pretty  little  church  has 
its  window-traceries  freshly  whitewashed  by  order  of  the 
careful  warden.  The  common  is  a fairly  spacious  bit  of 
ragged  pasture,  and  at  the  side  of  the  public  road  passing 
over  it  the  blind  girl  has  sat  down  to  rest  awhile.  She  is  a 
simple  beggar,  not  a poetical  or  vicious  one  — a girl  of  eighteen 
or  twenty,  extremely  plain-featured,  but  healthy,  and  just  now 
resting,  not  because  she  is  much  tired,  but  because  the  sun 
has  but  this  moment  come  out  after  a shower,  and  the  smell 
of  the  grass  is  pleasant.  The  shower  has  been  heavy,  and  is 
so  still  in  the  distance,  where  an  intensely  bright  double  rain- 
bow is  relieved  against  the  departing  thunder-cloud.  The 
freshly  wet  grass  is  all  radiant  through  and  through  with  the 
new  sunshine;  the  weeds  at  the  girl’s  side  as  bright  as  a 
1 — 16 


242  JOHN  EVERETT  MILLAIS  [isS4 

Byzantine  enamel,  and  inlaid  with  blue  veronica ; her  up- 
turned face  all  aglow  with  the  light  which  seeks  its  way 
through  her  wet  eyelashes.  Very  quiet  she  is,  so  quiet  that 
a radiant  butterfly  has  settled  on  her  shoulder,  and  basks 
there  in  the  warm  sun.  Against  her  knee,  on  which  her  poor 
instrument  of  beggary  rests,  leans  another  child,  half  her  age 
— her  guide.  Indifferent  this  one  to  sun  or  rain,  only  a little 
tired  of  waiting.” 

Neither  the  background  nor  the  figures  in  this  work  were 
finished  at  Icklesham,  the  middle  distance  being,  I think, 
painted  in  a hayfield  near  the  railway  bridge  at  Barnhill,  just 
outside  of  Perth.  Perth,  too,  supplied  the  models  from 


which  the  figures  were  finished.  The  rooks  and  domestic 
animals  were  all  painted  from  Nature,  as  was  also  the  tortoise- 
shell butterfly  (not  a Death’s-head,  as  Mr.  Spielmann  has  it), 
which  was  captured  for  the  purpose.  Both  here  and  in  “The 
Random  Shot  ” the  backgrounds  were  painted  with  extra- 
ordinary energy  and  rapidity,  and  the  work,  as  in  most  of 
the  artist’s  best  productions,  went  on  without  a hitch. 

I find,  amongst  my  father's  letters,  one  from  Professor 
Herkomer,  dated  April  5th,  1893,  in  which  he  says:  — 
“ I cannot  refrain  from  writing  to  you,  to  tell  you  of  the 
effect  your  picture,  ‘ The  Blind  Girl  ’ (1856),  had  upon  me 
when  I saw  it  in  Birmingham  lately.  I am  no  longer  a 
youngster,  but  I assure  you  that  that  work  so  fired  me,  so 
enchanted,  and  so  altogether  astonished  me,  that  I am  pre- 


IN  SCOTLAND  AGAIN 


243 


1854] 

pared  to  begin  Art  all  over  again.  The  world  of  Art  is 
your  deep  debtor  for  that  work,  and  so  am  I.  P.S.  — Do  tell 
me  the  yellow  you  used  for  the  grass.” 

The  first  owner  of  “ The  Blind  Girl  ” was  Mr.  T.  Miller, 
of  Preston ; the  second,  Mr.  W.  Graham  ; and,  after  passing 
through  other  hands,  it  became  the  property  of  Mr.  Albert 
Wood,  of  Conway.  For  its  subsequent  history  I am  in- 
debted to  Mr.  Whitworth  Wallis,  Curator  of  the  City  of 
Birmingham  Art  Gallery,  who  says:  — “I  borrowed  ‘The 
Blind  Girl  ’ from  Mr.  Albert  Wood  in  1S91,  and  induced  him 
to  part  with  it  to  Mr.  William  Kenrick,  who  presented  it 
to  the  Art  Gallery  here  as  a permanent  record  of  the  success 


of  the  Pre-Raphaelite  Brotherhood  Exhibition  held  in  this 
city.” 

In  the  autumn  of  1854  Millais  betook  himself  again  to 
Scotland,  in  search  of  health  and  amusement,  accompanied 
on  this  occasion  by  his  friends  Charlie  Collins,  Mike 
Halliday,  and  John  Luard,  of  whom  I must  now  say  a 
few  words.  John  Dalbiac  Luard  (to  give  him  his  full  name) 
began  life  as  an  officer  in  the  82nd  Foot,  but  so  devoted 
was  he  to  Art,  that  in  1853  he  left  the  service  and  took  up 
painting  as  a profession.  Sharing  with  Millais  a studio  in 
Langham  Chambers,  which  they  occupied  together  for  some 
years  — in  fact  nearly  down  to  the  time  of  poor  Luard’s 
death  in  i860  — he  gave  himself  up  to  military  subjects,  of 
which  “ The  Welcome  Arrival  ” and  “ Nearing  Home  ” were 


244  JOHN  EVERETT  MILLAIS  [1854 

exhibited  in  the  Royal  Academy  and  subsequently  engraved. 
His  brother,  Colonel  Luard,  kindly  sends  me  a number  of 
sketches  that  Millais  made  of  himself  and  his  companions 
during  this  tour,  and  assures  me  that  the  likeness  of  his 
brother  is  wonderfully  good.  In  the  first  of  the  series  re- 
produced here  we  see  the  three  men  together.'  They  have 
just  arrived  in  Scotland,  and,  having  made  no  plans  before- 
hand, are  at  a loss  to  know  what  to  do.  Millais,  in  his 

impulsive  way,  suggests,  “ Oh,  we  ’ll  go  over  and  see 

at  Aytoun.  He  ’ll  be  simply  delighted  to  see  us  and  give 
us  some  shooting.  . . . Oh,  no ! There’s  not  the  slightest 
need  to  give  notice.  We  ’ll  start  early  and  get  there  in  time 


for  breakfast.”  And  so  they  did ; they  started  very  early 
next  morning — with  the  consequences  depicted.  However, 
they  got  their  day’s  shooting,  marred  only  by  a trifling 
accident  on  the  part  of  little  Mike,  who  bagged  Luard  and 
the  footman  instead  of  the  rabbit  he  was  aiming  at. 

Later  on,  when  Halliday  and  Luard  left,  Charlie  Collins 
suggested  a walking  tour  with  Millais,  and  they  started  out 
together,  eventually  finding  themselves  at  Banavie,  near 
Fort  William,  where  they  seem  to  have  come  across  “ Long 
John,”  of  whiskey  fame,  who  entertained  them  with  samples 
of  his  wares.  Most  of  the  second  series  of  sketches  were 
made  here,  and  in  these  the  peculiarities  of  Collins’  garments 
are  not  forgotten.  In  the  kindness  of  his  heart  Collins 
looked  rather  to  the  necessities  of  his  tailor  than  to  his 
skill,  with  results  quite  appalling  to  worshippers  of  fashion. 


>855] 


THE  PARIS  EXHIBITION 


245 


For  similar  reasons,  too,  he  abjured  fishing,  a pastime  he 
delighted  in  above  all  others.  An  indication  of  this  is  seen 
in  the  sketch,  No.  9,  where  the  artist  and  his  companion 
appear  at  a critical  moment.  The  fisherman  playing  the 
salmon  is  Captain  Heywood,  of  the  82nd,  a quondam  brother- 
officer  of  Luard’s. 

The  Paris  Exhibition  was  now  coming  on.  It  was  to  be 
opened  early  in  1855,  and  Millais,  being  anxious  that 
English  Art  should  be  well  represented,  addressed  the 
following  letter 

To  Mr.  Combe. 

“ Langham  Chambers,  Langham  Place, 

“30 th  January,  1855. 

“ My  dear  Mr.  Combe,  — I was  dining  last  Saturday  at 
a friend’s  — Mr.  Arden’s  — and  met  Redgrave,  one  of  the 
managers  of  the  Art  department  for  the  Paris  Exhibition. 
He  mentioned  that  you  had  kindly  promised  them  ‘ The 
Light  of  the  World,’  and  asked  whether  it  was  possible  to 
get  another  of  Hunt’s  and  another  of  mine.  I promised 
to  write  and  ask  whether  you  would  send  also  either  ‘ The 
Return  of  the  Dove’  or  Hunt’s  picture.  I know  this  is 
asking  a great  deal,  as  you  would  be  for  some  little  time 
without  seeing  your  property ; but  if  you  can  spare  them, 
for  the  sake  of  showing  the  Frenchmen  that  we  have  a 
school  of  painters  in  this  country  (which  they  doubt),  you 
would  be  doing  something  towards  correcting  that  mistake. 
Of  course  the  pictures  are  fully  insured  by  Government,  so 
you  would  be  risking  no  loss;  but  you  understand  this,  I 
daresay,  just  let  me  know  how  you  look  upon  this  request, 
and  I will  write  to  Redgrave.  . . . 

“ I still  half  reside  with  Mrs.  C.,  that  strong-minded  old 
lady.  I dined  there  yesterday,  and  met  Dickens,  and  after- 
wards all  went  to  the  theatre.  I am  hard  at  work,  and 
never  have  time  for  anything  but  painting,  eating,  and 
sleeping.  I suppose  you  hear  as  much  from  Hunt  as  I 
do.  There  is  a letter  from  him  to  a mutual  friend,  but  none 
for  me  this  post.  He  returns  soon  now,  I think.  Give  my 
best  greeting  to  Mrs.  Pat.  I wish  you  could  both  see  my 
new  rooms.  Come  up  to  town  soon  and  see 

“ Ever  yours  sincerely, 

“John  E.  Millais.” 


246  JOHN  EVERETT  MILLAIS  [1855 

It  was  an  important  occasion  this,  for  in  the  eyes  of  France 
England,  as  “ a nation  of  shopkeepers,”  had  nothing  to  show 
in  the  way  of  pictorial  art ; nothing,  at  least,  that  would 
compare  for  a moment  with  the  works  of  her  own  artists ; 
and  now,  for  the  first  time  in  the  history  of  the  two  nations, 
English  painters  were  invited  to  show  what  they  could  do 
in  open  competition  with  their  neighbours.  Millais  sent, 
amongst  other  pictures,  “ The  Order  of  Release,”  “ Ophelia,” 
and  “ The  Return  of  the  Dove  to  the  Ark  ” ; and  other 
eminent  artists  contributed  freely,  sending  out  specimens  of 
their  finest  works.  The  result  was  a veritable  triumph  for 
British  Art,  and  was  freely  and  handsomely  acknowledged 


as  such  by  the  French  Press.  Theophile  Gautier,  the  great 
French  critic  of  the  period,  betrayed  some  bias  not  altogether 
unnatural  in  favour  of  his  own  countrymen,  yet  even  he 
acknowledged  the  sterling  merits  of  the  English  exhibits 
as  far  beyond  what  he  had  anticipated;  and  M.  Duranty, 
a later  and  almost  equally  well-known  critic,  was  still  more 
complimentary.  But  perhaps  the  following  critique,  trans- 
lated from  one  of  the  French  papers,  reflects  most  nearly  the 
general  opinion  of  the  Press. 

“The  English  contribution  of  paintings  in  1855  was 
second  in  numbers  only  to  the  French,  and  came  upon  the 
Continental  visitors  to  the  Exhibition  as  a surprise.  It  was 
even  more  than  a surprise,  it  was  a revelation — a revelation 
of  a school  whose  existence  was  not  even  suspected ; and 
English  painters,  but  little  esteemed  till  then,  obtained  a 
very  great  success.  The  distribution  of  awards  is  in  most 


1355] 


“THE  RESCUE” 


247 


cases  an  unsatisfactory  thing,  and  does  not  necessarily  prove 
or  disprove  merit ; but,  of  whatever  value  they  may  be 
thought,  thirty-four  were  obtained  by  British  artists  in  that 
year.” 

The  reasons  for  this  success  are  very  lucidly  explained 
by  each  of  these  critics.  Novelty,  the  contrast  with,  and 
even  the  opposition  to,  Continental  methods  and  ideals, 
the  complete  emancipation  from  tradition,  the  influence 
of  the  Pre-Raphaelites,  the  exceedingly  strong  local  colour, 
the  conscientious  endeavour  to  reflect  Nature,  and  the 
renunciation  of  self  on  the  part  of  the  artists:  these,  amongst 


other  circumstances,  created  a very  strong  impression  upon 
the  European  public  interested  in  Art,  and  were  undoubtedly 
the  chief  features  in  the  success  achieved.  The  paintings  of 
Messrs.  Ansdell,  Martin,  Mulready,  Millais,  Hunt,  Frith, 
Paton,  Landseer,  Dan  by,  and  Corbould  were  especially 
singled  out  for  notice,  Messrs.  Noel  Paton,  Mulready,  and 
Millais  receiving  the  greater  share.  The  school  of  water- 
colours was  new,  not  only  to  Europe,  but  to  Art,  and  the 
French  were  quick  to  see  of  what  the  new  method  was 
capable. 

“ The  Rescue  ” (or  “ The  Fireman,”  as  the  artist  himself 
used  to  call  it)  was  painted  in  1855,  and  is  certainly  one 
of  his  finest  works. 

Its  origin  is  thus  accounted  for  by  his  brother:  — “Early 
one  morning,  as  we  were  returning  from  a ball  in  Porchester 


248  JOHN  EVERETT  MILLAIS  [i85s 

Terrace,  we  noticed  the  bright  reflection  of  fire  in  the  sky. 
Accordingly  we  told  the  cabby  to  drive  in  that  direction, 
and  a fire-engine  dashing  by  at  that  moment  increased  our 
excitement.  The  fire  was  close  to  Meux's  brewery,  and 
we  were  in  time  to  see  the  whole  terrible  show.  On  gazing 
upwards  we  noticed  two  firemen  plying  the  hose  as  they 
stood  on  a rafter — themselves  two  black  silhouettes  against 
the  mass  of  heaving  flame — and  I shall  never  forget  the 
shout  of  horror  that  rent  the  air  when  the  roof  suddenly 
collapsed,  carrying  with  it  the  rafter  and  the  two  brave 
men. 


“We  went  home  much  impressed  with  what  we  had  seen, 
and  my  brother  said,  ‘ Soldiers  and  sailors  have  been  praised 
on  canvas  a thousand  times.  My  next  picture  shall  be  of  the 
reman. 

Mr.  Arthur  Hughes  is  also  good  enough  to  send  me  a 
note  on  the  subject.  He  says:  — “One  day  in  1855,  the 
moment  I saw  him  [Millais],  he  began  to  describe  the  next 
subject  he  proposed  to  paint  — ‘to  honour  a set  of  men 
quietly  doing  a noble  work  — firemen  ’ ; and  he  poured  out, 
and  painted  in  words  of  vividness  and  reality,  the  scene 
he  put  on  canvas  later.  I never  see  it  or  think  of  it  without 
seeing  also  the  picture  of  himself  glorified  with  enthusiasm 
as  he  was  describing  it.” 

It  was  at  a dinner  party  at  the  Collins’s  on  January  29th, 
1 85 5,  that  Millais  and  Charles  Dickens  met  (I  think)  for 
the  first  time.  After  dinner  they  talked  till  a late  hour 
on  pictures,  and  particularly  on  the  subject  of  “ The  Rescue,” 


LETTERS  FROM  DICKENS 


249 


1S55] 

on  which  Millais  was  then  engaged.  Dickens,  it  will  be 
remembered,  objected  strongly  to  Millais'  treatment  of 
“Christ  in  the  House  of  His  Parents,”  and  had  made  no 
attempt  to  disguise  his  feeling  in  speaking  of  the  picture 
in  Good  Words.  He  refers  to  this  in  the  following  letter 
to  Millais:  — 

From  Charles  Dickens. 

“ Tavistock  House, 

“ Tuesday , January  13//;,  1855. 

“My  dear  Sir,  — I send  you  the  account  of  the  fire 
brigade,  which  we  spoke  of  last  night. 

“ If  you  have  in  your  mind  any  previous  association  with 
the  pages  in  which  it  appears  (very  likely  you  have  none) 
it  may  be  a rather  disagreeable  one.  In  that  case  I hope 
a word  frankly  said  may  make  it  pleasanter. 

“ Objecting  very  strongly  to  what  I believe  to  be  an 
unworthy  use  of  your  great  powers,  I once  expressed  the 
objection  in  this  same  journal.  My  opinion  on  that  point 
is  not  in  the  least  changed,  but  it  has  never  dashed  my 
admiration  of  your  progress  in  what  I suppose  are  higher 
and  better  things.  In  short,  you  have  given  me  such  great 
reasons  (in  your  works)  to  separate  you  from  uncongenial 
associations,  that  I wish  to  give  you  in  return  one  little 
reason  for  doing  the  like  by  me.  And  hence  this  note. 

“ Faithfully  yours, 

“ Charles  Dickens.” 

When  “The  Rescue”  was  nearly  completed,  Millais  wrote 
and  asked  Dickens  to  come  and  see  how  the  work  had 
progressed,  and  received  the  following  reply:  — 

“ Tavistock  House, 

“ April  io/V/,  1855. 

“ My  dear  Mr.  Millais,  — I am  very  sorry  that  I cannot 
have  the  great  pleasure  of  seeing  your  picture  to-day,  as  I 
am  obliged  to  go  a little  way  out  of  town. 

“I  asked  Wilkie  Collins  to  let  you  know  that  there  is 
a curious  appositeness  in  some  lines  in  Gay’s  Trivia.  You 
will  find  them  overleaf  here,  to  the  number  of  four.  The 
whole  passage  about  a fire  and  firemen  is  some  four-and- 
twenty  lines  long.  Very  faithfully  yours, 

“ Charles  Dickens.” 


250  JOHN  EVERETT  MILLAIS  [,ss5 

Mr.  F.  B.  Barwell,  a friend  of  the  artist,  has  kindly 
furnished  me  with  the  following  notes  on  the  subject  of 
“ 1 he  Rescue  ” : — “ This  picture  was  produced  in  my  studio, 
and  presents  many  interesting  facts  within  my  own  know- 
ledge. After  several  rough  pencil  sketches  had  been  made, 
and  the  composition  determined  upon,  a full-sized  cartoon 
was  drawn  from  nature.  Baker,  a stalwart  model,  was  the 
fireman,  and  he  had  to  hold  three  children  in  the  proper 
attitudes  and  bear  their  weight  as  long  as  he  could,  whilst 
the  children  were  encouraged  and  constrained  to  do  their 
part  to  their  utmost.  The  strain  could  never  be  kept  up 


for  long,  and  the  acrobatic  feat  had  to  be  repeated  over  and 
over  again  for  more  than  one  sitting,  till  Millais  had  secured 
the  action  and  proportion  of  the  various  figures.  When 
sufficiently  satisfied  with  the  cartoon,  it  was  traced  on  to 
a perfectly  white  canvas,  and  the  painting  commenced.  It 
was  now  no  longer  necessary  to  have  the  whole  group  posed 

at  one  time  ; but  Baker  had  to  repeat  his  task  more  or  less 

all  through.  The  effect  of  the  glare  was  managed  by  the 

interposition  of  a sheet  of  coloured  glass  of  proper  hue 

between  the  group  (or  part  of  it  at  a time)  and  the  window. 
The  processes  employed  in  painting  were  most  careful,  and 
indeed  slow,  so  that  what  Millais  would  have  done  in  his 
later  years  in  a week,  took  months  in  those  earlier  days.  It 
was  his  practice  then  to  paint  piecemeal,  and  finish  parts 


“THE  RESCUE” 


1855J 


25J 


of  his  pictures  as  he  went  on.  White,  mixed  with  copal, 
was  generally  laid  on  where  he  intended  to  work  for  the 
day,  and  was  painted  into  and  finished  whilst  wet,  the  whole 
drying  together.  The  night-dresses  of  the  children  were  exe- 
cuted in  this  manner.  Strontian  yellow  was  mixed  with  the 
white,  and  then  rose-madder  mingled  with  copal,  floated, 
as  it  were,  over  the  solid  but  wet  paint  — a difficult  process, 
and  so  ticklish  that  as  soon  as  a part  was  finished  the  canvas 
had  to  be  laid  on  its  back  till  the  colour  had  dried  sufficiently 
to  render  the  usual  position  on  the  easel  a safe  one. 

“ By  degrees  the  work  was  finished,  but  not  till  near  mid- 
night of  the  last  day  for  sending  into  the  Royal  Academy. 


In  those  days  Millais  was  generally  behindhand  with  his 
principal  picture,  and  so  much  so  with  this  one,  that  he 
greatly  curtailed  his  sleep  during  the  last  week ; and  on 
the  last  day  but  one  began  to  work  as  soon  as  it  was  day- 
light, and  worked  on  all  through  the  night  and  following 
day  till  the  van  arrived  for  the  picture.  ( Mr.  Ruskin  defended 
the  appearance  of  haste,  which  to  him  seemed  to  betray 
itself  in  the  execution  of  this  picture,  contending  that  it  was 
well  suited  to  the  excitement  and  action  of  the  subject.) 
His  friend  Charles  Collins  sat  up  with  him  and  painted  the 
fire-hose,  whilst  Millais  worked  at  other  parts  ; and  in  the 
end  a large  piece  of  sheet-iron  was  placed  on  the  floor,  upon 
which  a flaming  brand  was  put  and  worked  from,  amidst 
suffocating  smoke.  For  the  head  of  the  mother,  Mrs. 
Nassau  Senior,  sister  of  fudge  Hughes  of  Tom  Brown 
fame,  was  good  enough  to  sit. 


252  JOHN  EVERETT  MILLAIS  [is5S 

“ The  methods  here  described  were  gradually  abandoned 
as  Millais  progressed  in  his  career.” 

On  the  whole,  this  picture  met  with  a fair  degree  of  appro- 
bation, but,  as  Mr.  Spielmann  says,  “its  artificiality,  and  still 
more  the  chromatic  untruth,  were  savagely  attacked.  It  was 
pointed  out  that  the  flames  of  burning  wood  emit  yellow 
and  green  rays  in  abundance.  Blazing  timber,  even  in- 
candescent bricks,  would  not  cast  such  a colour,  except  in 
a modified  tint  upon  the  clouds  above;  that  a fire  such  as 
this  throws  an  orange  light  at  most,  and  that  therefore  the 
children’s  night-dresses  should  have  been  yellow,  with  grey 
in  the  shadows,  and  the  fireman’s  green  cloth  uniform  yellow- 


grey.  The  latter  part  of  the  contention  Ruskin  demolished, 
for  nearly-black  is  always  quite-black  in  full  juxtaposition  with 
violet  colour.  But  he  could  not  meet  the  argument  that, 
to  accept  as  true  the  ruddy  glow,  one  must  agree  that  it 
is  a houseful  of  Bengal-fire  and  nitrate  of  strontian  that 
is  alight.  Seen  by  artificial  light,  the  picture  almost  succeeds 
in  concealing  this  error  of  fact.” 

The  following  interesting  note  on  “ The  Rescue  ” is  taken 
from  the  Table  Talk  of  Shirley,  as  quoted  in  Good  Words  of 
October,  1894: — “I  knew  Thomas  Spencer  Baynes  inti- 
mately for  nearly  forty  years.  For  ten  years  thereafter 
Baynes  was  my  constant  correspondent.  From  London 
he  wrote  to  me  as  follows  on  May  25th,  1855:  — ‘I 
went  in  for  half  an  hour  to  the  Royal  Academy  yesterday, 


i85S]  HANGING  COMMITTEE’S  INSULT  253 


but  as  I was  almost  too  tired  to  stand,  and  did  not  stay 
any  time,  I shall  say  nothing  about  it,  only  this,  that  the  face 
and  form  of  that  woman  on  the  stairs  of  the  burning  house 
[“  The  Rescue  ”]  are,  if  not,  as  I am  disposed  to  think,  beyond 
all,  quite  equal  to  the  best  that  Millais  has  ever  done,  not 
forgetting  the  look  of  unutterable  love  and  life’s  deep  yearn- 
ing in  “The  Huguenot.”  And  those  children  ! Ah  me  ! I can 
hardly  bear  to  think  of  it;  yet  the  agony  is  too  near,  too 
intense,  too  awful,  for  present  rejoicing  even  at  the  deliver- 
ance. And  that  smile  on  the  young  mother’s  face  has 
struggled  up  from  such  depths  of  speechless  pain,  and  ex- 
presses such  a sudden  ecstasy  of  utter  gratitude  and  over- 


mastering joy,  that  it  quite  unmans  me  to  look  at  it.  It  is 
the  most  intense  and  pathetic  utterance  of  poor  human  love 
I have  ever  met.’  ” 

Millais  himself  knew  this  to  be  his  best  work.  When, 
therefore,  he  went  to  the  Academy  on  varnishing-day,  1855, 
and  found  that  it  had  been  deliberately  skied,  his  indignation 
knew  no  bounds.  He  told  the  Hanging  Committee  to  their 
faces  what  he  thought  of  this  insult,  and  of  them  as  the 
authors  of  it.  But  perhaps  that  scene  is  best  described  in 
the  words  of  Dante  Rossetti,  who,  writing  to  his  friend 
W.  Allingham,  said  : “ How  is  Millais’ design  [‘  The  Fireside 
Story  ],  which  I have  not  yet  seen  ? I hope  it  is  only  as 
good  as  his  picture  at  the  Royal  Academy  — the  most  wonder- 
ful thing  he  has  done,  except,  perhaps,  ‘ The  Huguenot.’ 


254  JOHN  EVERETT  MILLAIS  [isS5 

He  had  an  awful  row  with  the  Hanging  Committee,  who  had 
put  it  above  the  level  of  the  eye ; but  J.  E.  Millais  yelled  for 
several  hours,  and  threatened  to  resign  till  they  put  it  right.” 

Mention  is  also  made  of  this  incident  in  the  Life  of  IV.  B. 
Scott , to  whom  Woolner,  writing  in  May,  1S55,  said:  — “ The 
Academy  Committee  hung  Millais — even  Millais,  their  crack 
student  — in  a bad  place,  he  being  too  attractive  now;  but 
that  celebrity  made  such  an  uproar,  the  old  fellows  were  glad 
to  give  him  a better  place.” 

Millais’  amusement,  when  Woolner  wrote,  was  to  go  about 
and  rehearse  the  scene  that  took  place  at  the  Academy  be- 
tween him  and  the  ancient  magnates. 

Seddon  also  wrote  on  May  3rd,  1S55: — “The  Academy 
opens  on  Monday.  The  hangers  were  of  the  old  school,  and 
they  have  kicked  out  everything  tainted  with  Pre-Raphael- 
itism.  My  ‘ Pyramids  ’ and  a head  in  chalk  of  Hunt’s,  and 
all  our  friends,  are  stuck  out  of  sight  or  rejected.  Millais’ 
picture  was  put  where  it  could  not  be  seen.  . . . He  carried 
his  point  by  threatening  to  take  away  his  picture  and  resign 
at  once  unless  they  rehung  him,  which  they  did.  He  told 
them  his  mind  very  freely,  and  said  they  were  jealous  of  all 
rising  men,  and  turned  out  or  hung  their  pictures  where  they 
could  not  be  seen.” 

The  latest  note  on  the  picture  appeared  in  the  Daily  ATews 
of  January  1st,  1898,  in  which  it  is  said  : — “ ‘ The  Rescue  ’ has 
a vigour  and  a courage  that  rivets  attention.  The  immortal 
element  (as  Ruskin  said  at  the  time)  is  in  it  to  the  full.  It 
was  studied  from  the  very  life.  Millais  and  a trusty  friend  of 
those  early  days  hurried  off  one  night  to  where  a great  fire 
was  raging,  plunged  into  the  thick  of  the  scene,  and  saw  the 
effects  which  his  memory  could  retain  and  his  hand  record. 
What  a grappling  it  is  with  a difficulty  which  no  other  painter 
had  so  treated  before.  It  is  a situation  which  is  dramatic; 
the  rest  is  Nature.  In  the  pose  of  the  mother,  as  she  reaches 
out  those  long  arms  of  hers,  straight  and  rigid  and  parallel, 
there  is  an  intensity  of  expression  that  recalls  his  Pre- 
Raphaelite  days.  The  figure  of  the  child  escaping  towards 
her  from  the  fireman’s  grasp  shows  what  mastery  of  his  art 
he  had  gained  in  the  interval.” 

The  secret  of  this  “ mastery  ” is  that  Millais  always  went 
to  life  and  Nature  for  his  inspiration.  Touching  this  par- 
ticular picture,  I heard  him  say  that  before  he  commenced 
the  work  he  went  to  several  big  fires  in  London  to  study  the 


ST.  AGNES.  1854 


“THE  FIRESIDE  STORY 


257 


18551 

true  light  effects.  The  captain  of  the  fire  brigade  was  a 
friend  of  his,  and  one  evening,  when  Millais  and  Mike  Halli- 
day  were  dining  with  him,  he  said,  after  several  alarms  had 
been  communicated,  “ Now,  Millais,  if  you  want  to  see  a 
first-class  blaze,  come  along.”  Rushing  downstairs,  the 
guests  were  speedily  habited  in  firemen’s  overalls  and 
helmets,  and,  jumping  into  a cab,  were  soon  on  the  scene 
of  action. 

Years  afterwards  Millais  was  dining  one  night  with  Captain 
Shaw,  the  then  chief  of  the  brigade,  and  renewed  his  ex- 
perience at  a big  fire ; but  this  time  he  travelled  on  one  of 
the  engines  — a position  which  he  found  much  less  to  his  taste 
than  the  inside  of  a cab. 

“ The  Fireside  Story,”  to  which  Rossetti  alludes,  was 
intended  to  illustrate  the  following  stanza  of  “ Frost  in  the 
Highlands,”  in  the  second  series  of  Day  and  Night  Songs , by 
William  Allingham  : — 

“ At  home  are  we  by  the  merry  fire, 

Ranged  in  a ring  to  our  heart’s  desire. 

And  who  is  to  tell  some  wondrous  tale, 

Almost  to  turn  the  warm  cheeks  pale, 

Set  chin  on  hands,  make  grave  eyes  stare, 

Draw  slowly  nearer  each  stool  and  chair  ? ” 

Of  this  drawing  the  Athenceum  of  August  18th,  1855, 
wrote:  — “ ‘ The  Fireside  Story,’ by  the  last-named  gentleman 
[Millais],  is  a proof  that  he  can  be  in  earnest  without  being 
absurd,  and  reproduce  Nature  without  administering  on  the 
occasion  a dose  of  ugliness  as  a tonic  ” — a piece  of  criticism 
which  called  forth  the  following  from  D.  G.  Rossetti  in  one 
of  his  letters  to  W.  Allingham  : — “ That  is  a stupid  enough 
notice  in  the  Athcnceum  in  all  conscience.  I wonder  who  did 
it?  Some  fearful  ass  evidently,  from  the  way  he  speaks  of 
Millais  as  well  as  of  you.” 

William  Allingham  also  refers  to  this  drawing  in  a letter  to 
Millais  of  November  10th,  1S55,  concluding  with  the  follow- 
ing words:  — “As  I am  not  good  at  praising  people  to  their 
faces,  and  as  it  is  a comfort,  too,  to  express  something  of 
what  one  feels,  pray  let  me  assure  you  here  of  the  deep 
respect  I have  for  your  powers.  The  originality  and  truth- 
fulness of  your  genius  fill  me  with  delight  and  wonder.  I 
wish  you  would  master  the  art  of  etching,  and  make  public 
half  a dozen  designs  now  and  again.  Surely  one  picture  in 
a year,  shown  in  London  and  then  shut  up,  is  not  result 
1 17 


258  JOHN  EVERETT  MILLAIS  [1855 

enough  for  such  a mine  of  invention  and  miraculous  power 
of  reproduction  as  you  possess.  This  is  the  age  of  printing 
and  a countless  public,  and  the  pictorial  artist  may  and  ought 
to  aim  at  exercising  a wider  immediate  influence.  Be  our 
better  Hogarth.  Don’t  leave  us  remote  and  wretched  to  the 
Illustrated  London  News  and  the  Art  Journal!* 

Acting  on  this  advice,  Millais  set  to  work  and  studied 


REJECTED.  1853 


etching.  By  my  mother’s  account-book  I see  he  did  etchings 
on  copper,  though  what  has  become  of  them  I do  not  know. 

The  year  after  its  exhibition  in  London  “ The  Rescue  ” 
was  sent  to  the  Liverpool  Academy,  where  it  is  said  to  have 
lost  the  annual  prize  by  a single  vote.  Thackeray,  who  was 
now  a great  admirer  of  Millais’  works,  was  quite  fascinated 
with  it,  and  it  was  due  to  his  recommendation  that  the  picture 
passed  into  the  hands  of  Mr.  Arden.  Some  years  afterwards, 

* The  wood-cutting  of  this  period  was  so  bad  that  even  the  best  examples  which 
appeared  in  these  journals  were  far  from  satisfactory. 


i §55] 


FREDERICK  LEIGHTON 


25  9 


when  it  was  put  up  for  auction  at  the  Arden  sale,  at  Christie’s 
rooms,  it  was  noticed  that  the  canvas  was  covered  with  spots, 
due  to  its  having  been  kept  in  an  uncongenial  temperature. 
The  artist  saw  this,  and  offered  to  put  things  right;  but, 
strange  to  say,  the  executors  declined  the  offer,  and  it  was 
sold,  spots  and  all.  The  spots  remained  on  the  canvas  for 
many  years,  and  after  seeing  the  picture  in  the  Glasgow 
Exhibition  in  1887,  I spoke  to  my  father  about  it,  and,  with 
the  consent  of  the  owners,  he  had  it  back  in  his  studio  and 
successfully  removed  the  blemish. 

It  was  in  this  year  (1855)  that  Leighton  (afterwards 
an  intimate  friend  of  Millais)  made  his  first  appearance  in 
the  Academy  with  an  important  work  — a big  picture  of 
“ Cimabue,”  which  was  bought  by  her  majesty  the  Oueen. 
Millais  referred  to  him  in  the  following  words  at  the 
Academy  banquet  on  May  6th,  1895  : — “ In  the  early  part  of 
the  evening  I spoke  of  my  first  meeting  with  Fred.  Leighton. 
Let  me  tell  you  where  and  from  whom  I first  heard  of  him. 
It  was  in  the  smoking-room  of  the  old  Garrick  Club,  and  the 
man  who  first  mentioned  the  name  to  me  was  William  Make- 
peace Thackeray.  He  had  just  returned  from  travelling 
abroad,  and,  amongst  other  places,  had  visited  Italy.  When 
he  saw  me  enter  the  room  he  came  straight  up  to  me,  and 
addressed  me  in  these  memorable  words:  — ‘Millais,  my  boy, 
you  must  look  to  your  laurels.  I have  met  a wonderfully 
gifted  young  artist  in  Rome,  about  your  own  age,  who  some 
day  will  be  the  President  of  the  Royal  Academy  before  you.' 
How  that  prophecy  has  come  to  pass  is  now  an  old,  old  story. 
We  are,  as  we  may  well  be,  proud  of  our  dear  President, 
our  admirable  Leighton  — painter,  sculptor,  orator,  linguist, 
musician,  soldier,  and,  above  all,  a dear  good  fellow.  That 
he  may  long  continue  to  be  our  chief  is  not  only  the  fervent 
prayer  of  the  Academy;  it  is,  unless  I am  much  mistaken, 
the  sincere  and  hearty  wish  of  every  member  of  the  pro- 
fession.” 

His  first  meeting  with  the  future  President  is  also  a matter 
of  some  interest.  Speaking  of  this,  he  said: — “The  first 
time  I met  Frederick  Leighton  was  on  the  war-path.  It 
was  at  a meeting  of  four  or  five  of  the  original  Artist 
Volunteers,  held  in  my  studio  in  Langham  Place,  and,  if 
my  memory  serves  me,  it  was  to  consider  the  advisability  of 
adopting  the  grey  cloth  which  the  corps  now  wears.” 

I hen  was  cemented  a life-long  friendship  between  the 


26o  JOHN  EVERETT  MILLAIS  [1855 

President  of  the  day  and  the  man  who  eventually  succeeded 
him  in  his  office. 

That  the  advent  of  Leighton  was  received  with  joy  by 
the  Royal  Academicians  will  be  seen  by  the  following  passage 
in  one  of  D.  G.  Rossetti’s  letters  in  1S55  : — “There  is  a 
big  picture  of  ‘ Cimabue,’  one  of  the  works  in  procession 
by  a new  man,  living  abroad,  named  Leighton  — a huge 
thing,  which  the  Queen  has  bought,  and  which  everyone 
talks  of.  The  Royal  Academicians  have  been  gasping 
for  years  for  someone  to  back  against  Hunt  and  Millais, 
and  here  they  have  him  — a fact  which  makes  some  people 
do  the  picture  injustice  in  return.” 


CHAPTER  VII 


LEECH.  THACKERAY,  WILKIE  COLLINS,  AND 
ANTHONY  TROLLOPE 


Millais’  affection  for  Leech  — His  first  top-boots  — “ Mr.  Tom  Noddy  ” — Millais 
introduces  “Mr.  Briggs”  to  the  delight  of  salmon  fishing — The  Duke  of 
Athol  and  Leech  — Letters  from  Leech — The  ghost  of  Cowdray  Hall  — Death 
of  Leech  — His  funeral  — The  pension  for  Leech’s  family  — Letter  from  Charles 
Dickens  — Thackeray  — The  littleness  of  earthly  fame  — Wilkie  Collins  — True 
origin  of  The  Woman  in  White  — Anthony  Trollope- — Letters  from  him. 

LEECH,  Thackeray,  Wilkie  Collins,  and  Anthony 
Trollope:  what  memories  these  names  conjure  up! 
They  were  amongst  the  oldest  and  most  intimate  friends  of 
Millais,  and  were  so  closely  associated  with  him  at  various 
periods  of  his  life  that  no  biography  of  any  of  them  would 
be  complete  without  some  record  of  the  others.  It  may  be 
interesting,  then,  to  those  who  know  them  only  by  their 
works  to  recall  here  some  of  the  many  personal  qualities 
that  endeared  them  to  all  who  enjoyed  the  privilege  of  their 
friendship. 

And  first  of  Leech,  the  famous  caricaturist  of  Punch. 
Here  was  a man  of  whom,  if  of  anybody,  one  might  say, 
“I  shall  not  look  upon  his  like  again.”  “The  truest  gentle- 
man I ever  met,”  was  what  was  said  of  him  by  those  who  knew 
him  best — by  such  judges  of  men  as  Thackeray,  Trollope, 
Frith,  Du  Maurier,  Dean  Hole,  and  others  — and  no  words 
could  better  convey  the  sentiments  of  Millais  himself.  To 
speak  of  him  after  his  death  was  always  more  or  less  painful 
to  my  father,  though  now  and  then,  when  sport  was  upper- 
most in  his  mind,  he  would  talk  enthusiastically  of  the  happy 
days  when  they  shot  or  rode  together  or  rollicked  about 
town  as  gay  young  bachelors  bent  on  all  the  amusement 
they  could  find. 

Hear  what  Du  Maurier  says  of  him  in  Harper  s Maga- 
zine:— “ He  was  the  most  sympathetic  and  attractive  person 
I ever  met;  not  funny  at  all  in  conversation,  or  ever  wishing 

261 


262  JOHN  EVERETT  MILLAIS 

to  be,  except  now  or  then  for  a capital  story,  which  he  told 
to  perfection. 

“ I he  keynote  of  his  character,  socially,  seemed  to  be 
self-effacement,  high-bred  courtesy,  never-failing  considera- 
tion for  others.  He  was  the  most  charming  companion 
conceivable,  having  intimately  known  so  many  important 
and  celebrated  people,  and  liking  to  speak  of  them ; but 

one  would  never  have  guessed  from 
anything  he  ever  looked  or  said 
that  he  had  made  a whole  nation, 
male  and  female,  gentle  and  simple, 
old  and  young,  laugh  as  it  had 
never  laughed  before  or  since,  for 
a quarter  of  a century. 

“ He  was  tall,  thin,  and  graceful, 
extremely  handsome,  of  the  higher 
Irish  type,  with  dark  hair  and 
whiskers  and  complexion,  and  very 
light  greyish-blue  eyes ; but  the 
expression  of  his  face  was  habitually 
sad,  even  when  he  smiled.  In 
dress,  bearing,  manner,  and  aspect 
he  was  the  very  type  of  the  well- 
bred  English  gentleman  and  man 
of  the  world  and  good  society.  . . . 
Thackeray  and  Sir  John  Millais  — 
not  bad  judges,  and  men  with 
many  friends  — have  both  said  that 
they  personally  loved  John  Leech 
better  than  any  man  they  ever 
knew. 

This,  I think,  fairly  sums  up  the 
character  of  the  man  whose  name, 
as  will  presently  be  seen,  figures  so 
often  and  so  prominently  in  my  father’s  correspondence.  It 
was  in  1851  that  they  first  met,  and  one  of  the  first  results 
of  the  intimacy  that  then  sprang  up  between  them  was  Millais’ 
conversion  to  his  friend’s  view  of  fox-hunting  as  one  of  the 
finest  sports  in  the  world  both  for  man  and  beast.  Hitherto 
he  had  insisted  that,  unlike  shooting  or  fishing,  at  both  of 
which  he  was  already  an  expert,  hunting  was  “a  barbarous 
and  uncivilised  sport,”  and  as  such  he  would  have  nothing 
to  do  with  it.  But  Leech  would  not  listen  to  this.  As  the 


JOHN  LEECH.  Circ.  1856 


HIS  FIRST  TOP-BOOTS 


265 

old  ostler  in  Punch  remarked,  “ The  ’orses  like  it,  the  ’ounds 
like  it,  the  men  like  it,  and  even  the  fox  likes  it";  and  as 
to  health,  urged  Leech,  it  was  only  at  the  tail  of  the  hounds 
that  an  artist  could  do  justice  to  himself  after  the  enervating 
influence  of  the  studio. 

That  was  enough.  If  only  for  the  sake  of  health  Millais 
would  hunt ; and  the  following  season  saw  him  at  the  cover- 
side,  booted  and  spurred,  and  bent  on  going  with  the  best  if 
only  his  horse  would  let  him. 

With  a view  to  this  Leech  had  introduced  him  to  a boot- 
maker in  Oxford  Street  for  his  first  “ tops  ” : and  according 
to  his  own  account  (for  he  never  hesitated  to  tell  a tale 
against  himself),  the  interview  was  not  lacking  in  amuse- 
ment. Being  but  a stripling  of  twenty-one  or  thereabouts,  his 
calves  were  in  the  embryo  state  so  mortifying  to  young 
manhood.  He  was  delighted  therefore  when,  on  measuring 
him,  the  shopman  said  with  an  air  of  admiration,  “Ah,  sir, 
what  a fine  leg  for  a boot!"  But  the  conclusion  of  the 
sentence  was  not  quite  so  satisfactory  — “ Same  size  all  the 
way  up.”  Leech  was  so  amused  with  this  that  he  immor- 
talised the  scene  in  Punch , and  on  more  than  one  occasion 
afterwards  my  father  sat  as  a model  for  some  of  his  clever 
drawings  in  that  periodical.  From  this  time,  indeed,  till 
the  day  of  his  death  John  Leech  was  one  of  his  closest 
friends.  They  hunted  together  in  the  shires,  shot,  fished, 
and  stalked  together;  and  all  those  amusing  sketches  in 
Punch , to  which  Leech  owed  his  fame  — all  the  deer-stalking,, 
grouse-shooting,  and  salmon-fishing  adventures  depicted  there 
as  incidents  in  the  life  of  “ Mr.  Briggs” — were  but  burlesque 
representations  of  Leech’s  own  experience  as  a tyro  on  his 
first  visit  to  Scotland,  principally  as  my  father’s  guest. 

By  the  end  of  the  first  hunting  season  Millais  had  acquired 
a firm  seat  on  horseback,  and  was  known  as  a bold  rider 
across  country;  and  except  when  in  later  years  Scotland 
claimed  his  presence,  he  followed  the  hounds  with  ardour 
year  by  year,  visiting  alternately,  Hertfordshire,  Bedfordshire, 
and  Leicester,  where  he  and  Leech  and  Mike  Halliday  kept 
their  hunters  — hired  by  them  lor  the  season.  A clever  little 
sketch  of  Leech's  is  given  here,  showing  Millais  putting  on 
the  steam  to  clear  a fence. 

Leech,  though  not  quite  so  keen  a rider,  was  a far  better 
horseman  than  his  modesty  would  ever  allow  him  to  acknow- 
ledge; but  little  Mike,  though  plucky  enough,  was  always 


266 


JOHN  EVERETT  MILLAIS 

coming  to  grief,  to  the  great  amusement  of  Leech,  who  duly 
chronicled  his  mishaps  in  Punch , under  the  title  of  “ The 
Adventures  of  Mr.  Tom  Noddy.” 

It  was  at  Stobhall,  near  Perth,  in  1855,  that  Millais  intro- 
duced his  friend  Leech  to  the  wild  delights  of  salmon-fishing, 
and  as  the  friend  of  “ Mr.  Briggs  ” he,  too,  appears  in  Punch. 
Leech  was  charmed  with  the  prospective  sport,  but  as  a 


MILLAIS  HUNTING.  1854 
By  John  Leech 


novice  in  the  art  of  casting  he  tried  in  vain  to  effect  a 
capture.  The  fish  were  there,  plenty  of  them,  and  flies  of 
the  most  seductive  character  floated  before  their  eyes ; but 
either  the  business-end  of  these  flies  was  too  apparent,  or 

their  movements  were  suspicious,  or But  who  shall  say 

by  what  process  of  reasoning  a fish  learns  to  distinguish 
between  friend  and  foe?  Anyhow,  they  could  not  be  per- 
suaded to  rise. 

Harling  was  then  resorted  to.  For  some  days  Leech  sat 
patiently  in  a boat,  hoping  that  some  feeble-minded  fish 
would  be  tempted  to  come  and  hook  itself  as  the  fly  dangled 


ANECDOTES  OF  LEECH 


carelessly  from  his  rod,  and  at  last  he  had  his  reward.  Just 
below  the  dyke  at  Stanley  the  line  suddenly  straightened ; 
Leech  snatched  up  the  rod,  and  away  went  a clean-run 
25-pounder  with  the  hook  in  his  gills  ! Then  the  struggle 
began,  and  great  excitement  for  the  fisherman,  as  this  bit 
of  Stanley  water  is  a rough  place,  full  of  rushing  streams 
and  deep  holes,  in  which  are  sharp,  shelving  rocks,  from 
which  the  quarry  must 
be  got  away  at  once,  or 
he  would  certainly  cut 
the  line. 

After  allowing  him 
one  good  run,  Leech 
scrambled  out  amongst 
the  rocks  and  stones  of 
the  Stobhall  shore,  and 
the  fish  making  straight 
down  stream,  dragged 
him  helter-skelter  over 
boulders  and  through 
bushes,  till  he  was  nearly 
at  his  last  gasp.  Then, 
luckily  for  him,  the 
salmon  retreated  into 
“ The  Devil’s  Hole,” 
and  sulked  there  for  half 
an  hour.  The  angler 
then  recovered  breath, 
and  ultimately,  at  the 
bottom  of  Stanley  water, 
my  father  gaffed  the 
fish,  to  the  great  delight 
of  “ Mr.  Briggs,”  as  sub- 
sequently portrayed  in 
Punch. 

Another  anecdote  of  Leech  must  be  related  here  in  con- 
nection with  this  visit  of  his  to  Perth.  During  the  previous 
year  he  made  the  acquaintance  of  the  Duke  of  Athol  in  a 
way  he  did  not  like.  Walking  in  the  hills  near  Blair,  he 
unfortunately  got  into  the  forest  when  a deer-drive  was 
going  on,  and  to  his  dismay  found  himself  face  to  face  with 
the  duke.  Now  Leech  was  a very  nervous  man,  and  the 
duke,  who  in  his  own  territory  was  looked  upon  as  a king, 


MILLAIS  FISHING  AT  STOBHALL 
Sketch  by  John  Leech  1855 


268  JOHN  EVERETT  MILLAIS 

waxed  exceedingly  wroth  at  the  sight  of  this  trespasser,  and 
without  more  ado  gave  him  what  they  call  in  Yorkshire 
“ a bit  of  his  mind,”  interlarding  his  speech  with  such  terrible 
terms  as  “Roderick  Dhu  ” and  “Vile  Sassenach.”  Leech, 
needless  to  say,  beat  a retreat,  only  too  glad  to  escape  with 
a whole  skin ; but  he  had  his  revenge  a few  months  later 
when  the  whole  world  was  laughing  at  his  clever  skit  on  the 
situation  in  the  pages  of  Punch. 

On  a second  visit  in  1856,  he  was  surprised  by  an  in- 
vitation to  come  with  my  father  to  Blair  and  take  part  in 
the  big  deer-drives  then  going  on ; but  with  that  sketch 
in  his  mind,  and  fearing  that  the  duke  might  have  recognised 
it  as  connected  with  himself,  he  could  not  be  prevailed  upon 
to  go  until  my  father  dragged  him  by  main  force  into  the 
coach.  The  duke  had  seen  it,  and  knew  what  it  meant,  and 
being  very  good-natured,  had  enjoyed  the  joke  immensely ; 
and  now  he  went  out  of  his  way  to  put  Leech  at  his  ease 
and  show  him  the  best  sport  he  could. 

Leech  had  now  two  opportunities  for  caricaturing  himself, 
and  was  not  slow  in  availing  himself  of  them.  After  a 
drive  in  which  he  failed  to  kill,  he  was  so  overcome  by  the 
heat  of  the  day  that  he  fell  asleep  in  his  shelter  just  as  a 
splendid  herd  of  stags  was  passing  by.  That  is  another 
incident  in  the  life  of  “ Mr.  Briggs  ” ; and  again  another  was 
found  in  a failure  to  kill  a noble  hart  which  had  been  stalked 
all  day. 

Though  the  duke  was  in  no  way  annoyed  by  Leech’s  skit, 
he  could  not  refrain  from  having  a little  joke  at  his  expense. 
The  two  were  in  a “butt”  together,  waiting  for  the  deer, 
when,  as  a humorous  reminder  of  their  first  meeting,  the 
duke  suddenly  produced  a pistol,  and,  presenting  it  at 
Leech’s  head,  exclaimed  in  theatrical  tones,  “ Now  I am 
‘ Roderick  Dhu  ’ on  my  native  heath,  and  you,  vile  Sas- 
senach, are  in  my  power ! ” 1 he  suddenness  of  the  attack 

so  upset  poor  Leech’s  nerves  that  he  let  the  deer  go  by 
without  a shot.  Eventually,  however,  lie  killed  two  stags 
by  stalking,  the  recollection  of  which  was  a source  of  happi- 
ness to  him  for  years  afterwards. 

In  this  same  year  another  shock  brought  another  picture 
from  the  hand  of  the  famous  caricaturist.  My  father  took 
him  to  shoot  with  his  friend,  James  Condy,  at  Rohallion, 
and  on  their  way  to  the  house  led  him  through  a corner  of 
the  home  park,  in  which  herds  of  bison,  recently  brought 


LETTERS  FROM  LEECH 


269 

from  Western  America  by  Sir  William  Stuart,  were  con- 
fined. The  furious  aspect  of  the  animals,  and  its  effect 
upon  the  untrained  nerves  of  the  novice,  shortly  afterwards 
found  expression  in  print  in  the  usual  quarter. 

Leech  used  to  say  he  could  never  quite  understand  a 
Scotchman.  They  were  a curious,  uncongenial  people,  with 
queer  ways  and  customs  very  perplexing  to  a stranger,  who, 
in  his  ignorance,  might  readily  give  offence  where  he  least 
intended  to  do  so.  An  instance  of  this  occurred  one  day 
when  he  and  Millais  by  chance  came  across  a man  in  a red 
shirt  who  was  cutting  down  a tree  in  a way  that  suggested 
at  least  a passing  acquaintance  with  the  whiskey  bottle. 
Recognising  him  as  a local  laird  whom  they  had  met  before, 

Leech  shyly  addressed  him  as  “ Mr.  Me  R .”  “Who 

the  devil  are  you  calling  Mr.  Me  R ? I am  The 

Me  R ,”  roared  the  fiery  Scot,  upon  which  Leech  apolo- 

gised and  made  off  at  once. 

And  here  may  be  fitly  introduced,  I think,  two  character- 
istic letters  from  Leech,  with  the  sketches  enclosed. 


From  John  Leech. 

“32  Brunswick  Square, 

“June  14  th,  1855. 

“ My  dear  Millais,  — I return  the  insurance  paper  filled 
up,  to  the  best  of  my  belief,  properly  — though  perhaps  with 
regard  to  the  question,  ‘ Is  there  any  peculiarity  in  his  con- 
figuration ? ’ I ought  to  have  been  more  explicit.  However, 
when  you  go  before  the  4 Board  ’ they  will  be  able  to  judge 
of  your  tendency  to  corpulence  and  what  may  be  called  your 
general  4 stumpy  (if  I may  use  a vulgar  but  expressive 
word)  appearance.  I might,  too,  have  attended  to  your 
strikingly  socratic  profile  ; but  the  answer  I have  returned 
will,  I daresay,  answer  the  purpose. 

44  I came  to  town  the  very  day  you  left  for  the  North, 
and  called  at  your  chambers,  missing  you  by  a few  hours 
only.  How  much  I should  have  liked  to  give  you  a 
shake  of  the  hand,  and  to  wish  viva  voce  health  and 
happiness  to  you  ! I do  most  cordially  wish  you  may  have 
both  for  many  years.  . . . Last  week  I went  out  pike- 
fishing at  a most  beautiful  place  called  Fillgate,  with  one 
Jolliffe,  of  whom  you  have,  1 think,  heard  me  speak.  He 


270  JOHN  EVERETT  MILLAIS 

was  in  the  4th  Light  Dragoons  and  was  in  the  ever-memor- 
able  Balaclava  Charge.  He  gave  me  a vivid  description 
of  the  dreadful  business.  Altogether  I have  rarely  had  a 
more  pleasant  day.  We  behaved,  I am  afraid,  in  a most 
unsportsmanlike  manner,  for  he  was  anxious  to  thin  the  pond 
of  fish,  and  determined  to  set  trimmers.  About  four-and- 
twenty  of  these  devices  were  put  in  all  over  the  water,  and 
it  was  exciting  enough  to  paddle  after  them  as  the  bait  on 
each  was  carried  off  by  Mr.  Jack.  You  would  have  enjoyed 
it  immensely,  only  you  would  have  jumped  out  of  the  boat. 
And  we  caught  a ‘bold  biting  Perch,’  sir! — such  a one  as 
I have  only  seen  stuffed  in  the  fishing-tackle  shops,  and 
which  I always  believed  to  be  manufactured  by  the  carpenter 
or  umbrella  maker.  He  weighed  three  pounds,  and  not 
fisherman’s  weight.  Let  me  hear  from  you  sometimes. 
This,  I know,  is  asking  a good  deal  under  the  circumstances, 
for  cannot  your  time  be  much  more  agreeably  employed  than 
in  writing  to  Yours  always,  my  dear  fellow, 

“ John  Leech  ? ” 


From  the  same. 

“32  Brunswick  Square, 

“ October  2 3/7/,  1855. 

“ My  dear  Mili.ais,  — I said  I would  write  to  you  from 
Folkestone,  and  I didn’t  write  to  you  from  Folkestone  — and 
will  you  forgive  me  ? My  conscience  has  been  pricking  me 
so  much  for  my  neglect  that  I can  bear  it  no  longer,  and 
although  I have  nothing  of  much  interest  to  communicate, 
‘ I send  you  these  few  lines,  hoping  they  will  find  you 
well,  as  they  leave  me  at  present.’  Luard  wrote  to  me  the 
other  day  from  his  ship,  on  his  way  to  the  Crimea.  I trust 
nothing  will  happen  to  the  good  little  fellow.  I shall  miss 
his  cheery,  pert  face  this  winter.  Am  I to  miss  you  too, 
or  are  you  coming  south?  Why  not?  Let  us  have  some 

fine,  healthful  exercise  with  old  P ,*  always  very  careful, 

of  course  — Old  Gentleman  style. 

“ You  should  come  to  town,  if  only  to  see  a collection  of 
photographs  taken  in  the  Crimea.  They  are  surprisingly 
good  ; I don’t  think  anything  ever  affected  me  more.  You 


* Millais  and  Leech  both  studied  “ the  noble  art  ” under  this  gentleman. 


LETTERS  FROM  LEECH 


2 7 1 

hardly  miss  the  colour,  the  truth  in  other  respects  is  so 
wonderful. 

“ When  I was  in  Paris  I saw  your  pictures.  Believe  me, 
out  of  some  thousands  of  pictures,  large,  very  large,  small, 
and  very  small,  they  stood  out,  as  your  works  always  do, 


THE  DUKE  OF  WELLINGTON 

Sketched  from  life  by  John  Leech  at  the  opening  of  the  Great  Exhibition,  May  ist,  1851 
and  enclosed  in  a letter  to  Millais 


most  conspicuously  good.  Apropos  of  pictures,  I want  to 
ask  you  a question.  I was  with  Mowbray  Morris  some  time 
since,  and  he  told  me  that  he  and  his  colleagues  of  the  Times 
wished  very  much  to  have  a portrait  painted  of  one  of  their 
most  valued  contributors  and  friends  to  be  hung  up  in  their 
‘Sanctum.’  They  wish,  of  course,  that  it  should  be  done  by 
the  best  man.  Both  Morris  and  myself  agreed  that  there 


272  JOHN  EVERETT  MILLAIS 

was  only  one  best  man,  and  that  ‘party’  J.  Everett  What’s- 
his-name,  a.r.a.  Well,  he  asked  me  whether  you  would  do 
it,  and  I said  I would  ask  you.  What  do  you  say?  It 
would,  I think,  be  considered  by  them  quite  as  much  a 
kindness  on  your  part  as  a matter  of  business,. although  the 
business  part  of  it  would  be  according  to  your  own  views, 
supposing  it  came  to  anything.  . . . 

“ The  Newcomes  is  a wonderful  book,  particularly  the  latter 
part  of  it  — the  old  colonel’s  ‘Adsum’l  What  genuine 
pathos  ! I dined  with  Thackeray  the  day  before  he  started 
for  America.  I don’t  think  he  liked  leaving  England. 
Would  that  he  were  back  working  away  at  another  book. 
You  will  be  glad  to  hear  that  our  little  ones  are  thriving 
famously.  Your  little  friend  runs  about,  and  begins  to  talk. 
She  already  has  a strong  inclination  to  draw,  which  develops 
itself  in  the  making  of  what  she  calls  dow-dows  (dogs)  over 
every  sketch  of  mine  that  comes  in  her  way  ; and,  I am  sorry 
to  add,  remonstrance  is  of  no  avail,  for  on  the  slightest 
attempt  to  interfere  with  any  project  she  has,  she  clashes 
herself  on  the  ground  and  screams  awfully.  This  must  be 
altered;  Paterfamilias  must  be  stern.  The  boy  begins  ‘to 
take  notice’;  that  is,  he  screws  his  mouth  up  to  all  sorts  of 
ridiculous  shapes,  and,  squinting,  makes  a little  grunt,  which 
is  supposed  to  be  indicative  of  strong  filial  attachment. 

“ Always  yours, 

“John  Leech.” 

And  now  we  come  to  a little  ghost  story  that  my  father 
used  to  tell,  and,  as  related  by  William  Millais,  runs  thus:  — 
“ A very  singular  thing  happened  to  my  brother  and  John 
Leech  when  they  were  on  a fishing  tour,  walking  with  knap- 
sacks and  staying  at  wayside  inns.  Happening  to  be  passing 
near  Cowdray  Hall,  they  met  the  squire,  whom  they  knew 
well,  and  he  pressed  them  to  return  with  him  to  dine  and 
sleep,  and  being  some  distance  from  their  next  halting-place, 
and  tired,  they  accepted  the  kind  invitation. 

“ '1'here  was  a terrible  ghost  story  attached  to  the  old 
house,  and  after  dinner  everyone  seemed  possessed  with  the 
determination  to  relate  his  or  her  experience  of  these  weird 
goblins.  It  turned  out  that  the  hall  was  so  full  of  visitors 
that  only  the  quarters  occupied  by  the  local  ghost  were  avail- 
able, and  they  were  situated  in  an  unused  wing  of  the  hall. 


A GHOST  STORY  273 

These  were  offered  to  the  two  fishermen,  who  of  course 
laughed  and  scoffed  at  the  idea  of  the  ghost. 

“ The  rooms  were  covered  with  fine  old  tapestry  and  kept 
in  beautiful  order,  with  grand  old-fashioned  beds  in  them. 
When  they  retired  to  rest  they  were  looked  upon  by  the 
assembled  company  as  heroes  of  the  first  magnitude.  J hey 
were  tired,  however,  and  soon  dropped  into  the  arms  of 
Morpheus. 

“ In  the  middle  of  the  night  my  brother  jumped  out  of 
bed  in  a cold  shiver,  and  trembling  in  every  limb.  He  told 


Part  of  a letter  from  Leech  to  Millais,  who  has  expressed  his  intention  to  cultivate  a moustache.  1856 


me  that  he  felt  as  if  he  had  been  violently  shaken  by  an 
invisible  giant.  They  had  been  told  that  the  ghost  served 
its  victims  in  such  a manner.  My  brother  went  off  to  see 
Leech,  whom  he  found  sitting  in  the  corridor,  when  he  de- 
clared that  nothing  would  induce  him  to  2:0  into  his  room 
again  ; and  thus  they  passed  the  night  in  the  corridor. 

“ Everyone  was  out  cub-hunting  when  they  reached  the 
breakfast-table,  and  it  was  only  late  in  the  day  that  some  of 
the  visitors  began  to  show  themselves,  and  of  course  they 
were  asked  how  they  had  slept.  They  laughed  over  the 
matter,  and  confessed  that  they  had  not  seen  the  ghost. 


274  JOHN  EVERETT  MILLAIS 

Later  in  the  afternoon  the  squire  came  in  in  great  excitement, 
holding  in  his  hand  the  local  evening  paper,  first  edition,  and 
said  that  there  had  been  a severe  earthquake  in  the  night, 
that  a village  quite  near  had  suffered  serious  damage,  and 
that  it  was  a most  extraordinary  thing  that  no  one  in  the 
house  had  felt  it.  And  then  the  fishermen  told  him  how  they 
had  passed  the  night.  The  earthquake  was  the  ghost’s  under- 
study on  this  occasion,  and  played  his  part  admirably.” 

As  Leech  advanced  in  years  his  melancholy  and  sensitive- 
ness, due  in  a great  measure  to  overwork,  increased.  He 
became  so  nervous  that  the  very  slightest  noise  disturbed 
him  ; and  living  in  London,  as  he  did,  he  could  hardly  escape 
from  barrel-organs,  bands,  whistling  boys,  and  shrieking 
milkmen.  At  last  that  dread  disease  “ angina  pectoris  ” came 
upon  him,  and  one  evening,  when  Millais  was  painting,  a 
terrified  domestic,  whom  he  at  once  recognised  as  Leech’s 
housemaid,  rushed  in,  saying  that  her  master  had  another 
bad  attack,  and  was  crying  aloud,  “ Millais  ! Millais  ! ” The 
next  moment  Millais  was  off,  and  running  through  the  streets 
of  Kensington  he  mounted  the  stairs  of  his  old  friend’s 
room,  and  found  him  lying  across  the  bed,  quite  still  and 
warm,  but  to  all  appearance  dead,  the  belief  in  the  house 
being  that  he  expired  at  the  moment  of  his  friend’s  arrival. 

A few  days  later  he  was  laid  to  rest,  and,  says  Du 
Maurier,  # “ I was  invited  by  Messrs.  Bradbury  and  Evans, 
the  publishers  of  Punch , to  the  funeral,  which  took  place 
at  Kensal  Green.  It  was  the  most  touching  sight  imaginable. 
The  grave  was  near  Thackeray’s,  who  had  died  the  year  before. 
There  were  crowds  of  people,  Charles  Dickens  among  them. 
Canon  Hole,  a great  friend  of  Leech's,  and  who  has  written 
most  affectionately  about  him,  read  the  service ; and  when 
the  coffin  was  lowered  into  the  grave,  John  Millais  burst 
into  tears  and  loud  sobs,  setting  an  example  that  was  followed 
all  round.  We  all  forgot  our  manhood,  and  cried  like  women ! 

I can  recall  no  funeral  in  my  time  where  simple  grief  and 
affection  had  been  so  openly  and  spontaneously  displayed 
by  so  many  strangers  as  well  as  friends — not  even  in  France, 
where  people  are  more  demonstrative  than  here.  No  burial 
in  Westminster  Abbey  that  I have  ever  seen  ever  gave  such 
an  expression  of  universal  honour,  love  and  regret.  ‘ Whom 
the  gods  love  die  young.’  He  was  only  forty-six.” 

Finding  then  that  little  or  no  provision  was  left  for  his 
* Harper's  Magazine , February,  1896. 


PROVISION  FOR  LEECH’S  FAMILY  275 

family,  my  father  took  up  the  case,  and  with  the  aid  of  a few 
friends  (notably  “ Dicky”  Doyle),  organised  an  exhibition 
of  Leech’s  drawings,  which  brought  in  a considerable  sum, 
but  not  sufficient  to  provide  for  the  children’s  education.  A 
pension  from  the  Civil  List  was  then  thought  of ; but  it  was 
no  easy  matter  to  obtain  this,  as  at  that  time  (1S64)  these 
pensions  were  limited  almost  exclusively  to  the  families  of 
men  whose  lives  were  devoted  to  literary  work  alone.  An 
attempt,  however,  must  be  made ; and  on  an  appeal,  kindly 
supported  by  the  Prince  and  Princess  of  Wales,  Lord 
Palmerston,  Lord  Shaftesbury,  and  other  influential  admirers 
of  Leech’s  works,  a pension  of  ^50  a year  was  granted 
to  each  of  the  children. 

Numerous  letters  on  this  subject  from  His  Royal  Highness 
and  other  notabilities  lie  before  me ; but  perhaps  the  most 
interesting  is  that 


From  Charles  Dickens. 

“ Gad’s  Hill  Place,  Higham-by- Rochester, 

“ Sunday , December  18 th,  1864. 

“ My  dear  Millais, — There  are  certain  personal  private 
circumstances  which  would  render  my  writing  to  Lord 
Palmerston,  separately  and  from  myself  alone , in  the  matter 
of  the  pension,  a proceeding  in  more  than  questionable 
taste.  Besides  which  I feel  perfectly  certain  that  a re- 
minder from  me  would  not  help  the  powerful  case.  I should 
have  been  glad  to  sign  the  memorial,  but  I have  not  the 
least  doubt  that  the  letter  from  myself  singly  is  best  avoided. 
If  I had  any,  I would  disregard  the  other  considerations  and 
send  it;  but  I have  none,  and  I am  quite  convinced  that  I am 
rioffit. 

O 

“ You  are  a generous  and  true  friend  to  Mrs.  Leech. 

“ Faithfully  yours  ever, 

“ Charles  Dickens.” 

Mrs.  Leech  soon  followed  her  husband.  Leech’s  only 
son  was  drowned  many  years  ago  in  Australian  waters,  and 
his  daughter  Ada,  who  married  a clergyman,  has  also  joined 
the  great  majority. 

I he  following  letter  to  her  is  characteristic  of  the  writer, 
who  was  always  keenly  alive  to  the  claims  of  friendship. 


2j6 


JOHN  EVERETT  MILLAIS 


To  Miss  Ada  Leech. 


“ January  io th,  1877. 

“Dear  Ada,  — I am  much  grieved  to  hear. of  the  death 
of  your  good  uncle,  and  that  you  should  be  left  without 
his  counsel  and  advice. 

“ 1 shall  be  very  happy  at  all  times  to  help  you  to  the  best 
of  my  ability,  and  hope  you  will  send  me  the  name  and 
address  of  his  solicitor,  as  we  were  joint  trustees  in  the 
Government’s  grant  settled  on  you,  and  1 shall  have  to  now  act 
until  some  other  gentleman  is  appointed  with  me.  Moreover, 
any  confidence  you  may  place  in  me,  from  my  affection 
towards  your  father,  I will  do  my  best  to  use  for  your  benefit. 
I am  sure  your  aunt,  Mrs.  Hayward,  will  be  most  kind  to 
you,  but  I am  aware  there  are  some  positions  in  which  a 
man  alone  can  act  on  your  behalf.  . . . You  have,  indeed, 
been  unfortunate,  but  at  your  age  you  may  look  for  a happy 
career  yet.  Just  at  this  moment  we  are  moving  into  our 
new  house,  and  in  mourning  ourselves,  otherwise  I would 
have  you  with  us,  if  you  would  come.  Tell  Mrs.  Hayward 
how  truly  I sympathise  with  her,  and  believe  me  always 

11  Yours  truly, 

“J.  E.  Millais.” 


As  to  Thackeray,  my  father  and  mother  always  regarded 
him  as  one  of  the  most  delightful  characters  they  ever  met. 
Though  in  dealing  with  the  infirmities  of  human  nature  his 
works  now  and  then  show  traces  of  cynicism,  the  man  him- 
self was  no  cynic — was  rather,  indeed,  to  those  who  knew 
him  best,  a most  sympathetic  friend,  and  tender-hearted 
almost  to  a fault.  For  some  years  he  entertained  and 
brought  up  as  one  of  his  family  the  daughter  of  a deceased 
friend  ; and  so  grieved  was  he  at  the  thought  of  parting 
from  her  that  on  her  wedding-day  he  came  for  consolation 
to  my  father’s  studio,  and  spent  most  of  the  afternoon  in 
tears.  They  met  so  frequently  — he  and  Millais  — that  but 
little  correspondence  of  any  interest  appears  to  have  passed 
between  them.  The  genial  nature  of  the  man,  however, 
peeps  out  in  the  following  reply  to  my  father’s  invitation 
to  stay  with  him  at  Annat  Lodge,  near  Perth,  when  on  his 
lecturing  tour  in  1857. 


THACKERAY 


277 


From  Thackeray. 

“ Queen’s  Hotel,  Glasgow, 

“ March  3 rd. 

“My  dear  Millais, — I got  the  sad  news  at  Edinburgh 
yesterday  — that  there  is  to  be  no  lecture  at  Perth,  my 
manager  not  having  been  able  to  make  arrangements  there. 
So  I shall  lose  the  pleasure  I had  promised  myself  of  seeing 
you  and  Mrs.  Millais,  and  the  pictures  on  the  easel,  and  the 
little  miniature  Millais  by  Millais,  which  I hope  and  am 
sure  is  a charming  little  work  by  that  painter.  I am  off 
in  a minute  to  Edinburgh  for  Kirkaldy,  and  have  only  time 
to  say  that  I am 

“ Very  truly  yours  always, 

“W.  M.  Thackeray.” 

Of  Thackeray,  Millais  and  Carlyle,  William  Millais  tells 
an  interesting  story  illustrative  of  the  littleness  of  earthly 

fame,  however  highly  we  may  regard  it.  He  says  : — “I  was 

sitting  with  my  brother  in  the  Cromwell  Place  studio  when 
Thackeray  suddenly  came  in  all  aglow  with  enthusiasm  at 
my  brother’s  fame.  Every  window  in  every  shop  that  had 

the  least  pretension  to  Art-display,  he  said,  was  full  of  the 

engravings  of  his  popular  works.  On  his  way  he  had  seen 
innumerable  ‘ Orders  of  Release,’  ‘ Black  Brunswickers,’  and 
1 Huguenots’;  in  fact,  he  had  no  hesitation  in  affirming  that 
John  Millais  was  the  most  famous  man  of  the  day.  He 
then  alluded  to  his  own  miserable  failure  at  first,  and  told 
us  how  he  had  taken  some  of  his  works  which  have  since 
been  acknowledged  to  be  the  finest  specimens  of  English 
literature,  to  the  leading  publishers,  and  how  they  had  one 
and  all  sneeringly  hinted  that  no  one  would  read  his  works 
after  Dickens. 

“ My  brother  told  him  that,  curiously  enough,  on  the  day 
before,  an  incident  had  occurred  that  proved  that  his  fame, 
even  amongst  his  own  profession,  was  not  all  that  Thackeray 
had  painted  it.  He  had  met,  near  Shepherd's  Bush,  an  old 
fellow-student  of  the  Royal  Academy  (Mr.  Frith  calls  him 
‘ Potherd ’),  who  had  taken  the  second  prize  to  his  first, 
at  the  age  of  twelve.  The  man  was  full-grown  then,  and 
had  strongly-marked  features;  moreover,  he  wore  the  same 
old  military  cloak,  with  lion  clasp,  that  he  used  to  wear  in 


278  JOHN  EVERETT  MILLAIS 

the  old  clays,  so  my  brother  had  no  difficulty  in  recognising 

him  ; and,  addressing  him  at  once,  he  said,  ‘ Well,  P , 

and  what  are  you  doing?  and  how  are  you?  It  is  a long 
time  since  we  met.’  He  said  he  was  grubbing  away  at 
teaching  — ‘ slow  work  and  worse  pay  ’ — or  something  to  that 
effect.  ‘ But  who  are  you,  pray?’  On  being  told  the  name, 
he  replied,  ‘What!  little  Johnny  Millais!  And  now  may 
I ask  what  you  have  done  all  this  time  ? Have  you  pursued 
the  Arts  ? ’ 

“ Thackeray  immediately  put  this  down  to  satire,  but  it  was 
not,  as  we  found  out  afterwards.  The  simple  fellow  either 
could  not  believe  that  the  famous  man  was  his  old  school- 
fellow, or  was  completely  ignorant  of  his  success. 

“ Before  this,  Thackeray  told  an  amusing  story  of  Carlyle, 
how  that  he  had  spent  a day  in  the  reading-room  of  the 
British  Museum  and  had  given  a great  deal  of  trouble  to 
one  of  the  officials,  sending  him  up  and  down  ladders  in 
search  of  books  to  satisfy  his  literary  tastes,  and  how,  upon 
leaving  the  room,  he  hacl  gone  up  to  the  man  and  told  him 
that  it  might  be  some  satisfaction  to  him  to  know  that  he 
had  obliged  Thomas  Carlyle,  and  that  the  official  had 
answered  him,  with  a bland  smile  and  the  usual  washing 
of  hands  in  the  air,  that  the  gentleman  had  the  advantage 
of  him,  but  that  probably  they  might  have  met  at  some 
mutual  friend’s  house.  He  had  never  heard  of  Thomas 
Carlyle.” 

Of  Wilkie  Collins  there  is  little  to  be  said  in  connection 
with  the  subject  of  the  present  work,  though  both  he  and 
his  brother  Charles  were  for  many  years  amongst  Millais’ 
most  intimate  friends,  and  no  one  more  admired  his  brilliant 
talent  as  a novelist.  Since  his  famous  novel,  The  Woman 
in  White , appeared,  many  have  been  the  tales  set  on  foot 
to  account  for  its  origin,  but  for  the  most  part  quite  inaccurate. 
The  real  facts,  so  far  as  I am  at  liberty  to  disclose  them,  were 
these  : — 

One  night  in  the  fifties  Millais  was  returning  home  to 
Gower  Street  from  one  of  the  many  parties  held  under 
Mrs.  Collins’  hospitable  roof  in  Hanover  Terrace,  and,  in 
accordance  with  the  usual  practice  of  the  two  brothers, 
Wilkie  and  Charles,  they  accompanied  him  on  his  homeward 
walk  through  the  dimly-lit,  and  in  those  days  semi-rural, 
roads  and  lanes  of  North  London. 

It  was  a beautiful  moonlight  night  in  the  summer  time, 


WILKIE  COLLINS 
National  Portrait  Gallery.  Circ.  1855 


WILKIE  COLLINS 


281 

and  as  the  three  friends  walked  along  chatting  gaily  together, 
they  were  suddenly  arrested  by  a piercing  scream  coming 
from  the  garden  of  a villa  close  at  hand.  It  was  evidently 
the  cry  of  a woman  in  distress;  and  while  pausing  to  con- 
sider what  they  should  do,  the  iron  gate  leading  to  the 
garden  was  dashed  open,  and  from  it  came  the  figure  of  a 
young  and  very  beautiful  woman  dressed  in  flowing  white 
robes  that  shone  in  the  moonlight.  She  seemed  to  float 
rather  than  to  run  in  their  direction,  and,  on  coming  up  to 
the  three  young  men,  she  paused  for  a moment  in  an  attitude 
of  supplication  and  terror.  Then,  seeming  to  recollect  her- 
self, she  suddenly  moved  on  and  vanished  in  the  shadows 
cast  upon  the  road. 

“ What  a lovely  woman  ! ” was  all  Millais  could  say. 
“ I must  see  who  she  is  and  what’s  the  matter,”  said  Wilkie 
Collins  as,  without  another  word,  he  dashed  off  after  her. 
His  two  companions  waited  in  vain  for  his  return,  and  next 
day,  when  they  met  again,  he  seemed  indisposed  to  talk 
of  his  adventure.  They  gathered  from  him,  however,  that 
he  had  come  up  with  the  lovely  fugitive  and  had  heard  from 
her  own  lips  the  history  of  her  life  and  the  cause  of  her 
sudden  flight.  She  was  a young  lady  of  good  birth  and 
position,  who  had  accidentally  fallen  into  the  hands  of  a man 
living  in  a villa  in  Regent’s  Park.  There  for  many  months 
he  kept  her  prisoner  under  threats  and  mesmeric  influence 
of  so  alarming  a character  that  she  dared  not  attempt  to 
escape,  until,  in  sheer  desperation,  she  fled  from  the  brute, 
who,  with  a poker  in  his  hand,  threatened  to  dash  her  brains 
out.  Her  subsecjuent  history,  interesting  as  it  is,  is  not  for 
these  pages. 

Wilkie  Collins,  of  whom  there  is  an  excellent  likeness  by 
Millais  in  the  National  Portrait  Gallery,  died  in  1870.  His 
last  letter  to  my  father  ran  thus:  — 


From  IVilkie  Collins. 

“ 1 2 Harley  Street, 

“ April  6 th,  1S63. 

“My  dear  Jack, — I have  been  miserably  ill  with  rheu- 
matic gout  ever  since  that  pleasant  dinner  at  your  house,  and 
I am  only  now  getting  strong  enough  to  leave  England  in  a 
few  days  and  try  the  German  baths.  . . . 


282  JOHN  EVERETT  MILLAIS 

“ I hear  great  things  of  a certain  picture  of  yours  [‘  The 
Eve  of  St.  Agnes’],  but  there  is  no  chance  of  my  getting  to 
see  it.  If  I am  alive,  I hope  to  be  back  in  June  and  see  it 
at  the  Academy.  All  the  little  strength  I have  got  is  now 
wanted  for  preparations  for  the  start. 

“ Poor  dear  Egg!*  No  such  heavy  distress  as  that  has 
tried  me  for  many  and  many  a year  past.  And  I know  you 
must  have  felt  it  too.  Pray  give  my  kindest  remembrances 
to  Mrs.  Millais,  and  believe  me, 

“ Ever  yours, 

“ Wilkie  Collins.” 

Anthony  Trollope,  the  famous  novelist,  is  the  last  of 
Millais’  amis  coeiir  whom  I need  mention  here.  They 
met  for  the  first  time  at  a dinner  given  by  Mr.  George  Smith 
to  the  contributors  to  the  Covnhill  Magazine  and  the  Pall 
Mall  Gazette , both  of  which  papers  owed  their  birth  to  Mr. 
Smith ; and  the  friendship  there  formed  ended  only  with 
Trollope’s  death  in  1882.  The  lovable  character  of  the  man 
is  seen  in  the  autobiography  published  after  his  death,  in 
which  also  is  a most  touching  record  of  his  affection  for 
Millais.  He  writes:  — 

“ It  was  at  that  table  [Mr.  George  Smith’s]  and  on  that 
day  that  I first  saw  Thackeray,  [Sir]  Charles  Taylor  — than 
whom  in  later  life  I have  loved  no  man  better — Robert  Bell, 
G.  H.  Lewes,  and  John  Everett  Millais.  With  all  these 
men  I afterwards  lived  on  affectionate  terms.  But  I will 
here  speak  specially  of  the  last,  because  from  that  time  he 
was  joined  with  me  in  so  much  of  the  work  that  I did. 

“Mr.  Millais  was  engaged  to  illustrate  ‘ Framley  Parson- 
age,’ but  this  was  not  the  first  work  he  did  for  the  magazine. 
In  the  second  number  there  is  a picture  of  his, accompanying 
Monckton  Milnes’  ‘Unspoken  Dialogue.’  The  first  drawing 
he  did  for  ‘ Framley  Parsonage’  did  not  appear  till  after  the 
dinner  of  which  I have  spoken,  and  I do  not  think  that  I 
knew  at  the  time  that  he  was  engaged  on  my  novel.  When 
I did  know  it,  it  made  me  very  proud.  He  afterwards  illus- 
trated ‘ Orley  Farm,’  ‘ The  Small  House  at  Allington,’ 

‘ Rachel  Ray,’  and  ‘ Phineas  Finn.’  Altogether  he  drew 
from  my  tales  eighty-seven  drawings,  and  I do  not  think 
that  more  conscientious  work  was  ever  done  by  man. 

* Augustus  Egg,  R.  A.,  a brilliant  artist  and  a great  friend  of  Millais  and  Collins, 
•died  in  this  year. 


ANTHONY  TROLLOPE  283 

Writers  of  novels  know  well,  and  so  ought  readers  of  novels 
to  have  learned,  that  there  are  two  modes  of  illustrating, 
either  of  which  may  be  adopted  equally  by  a bad  and  by 
a good  artist.  To  which  class  Mr.  Millais  belongs  I need 
not  say,  but,  as  a good  artist,  it  was  open  to  him  simply  to 
make  a pretty  picture,  or  to  study  the  work  of  the  author 
from  whose  writing  he  was  bound  to  take  his  subject.  I 
have  too  often  found  that  the  former  alternative  has  been 
thought  to  be  the  better,  as  it  certainly  is  the  easier,  method. 
An  artist  will  frequently  dislike  to  subordinate  his  ideas  to 
those  of  an  author,  and  will  sometimes  be  too  idle  to  find  out 
what  those  ideas  are.  But  this  artist  was  neither  proud  nor 
idle.  In  every  figure  that  he  drew  it  was  his  object  to 
promote  the  views  of  the  writer  whose  work  he  had  under- 
taken to  illustrate,  and  he  never  spared  himself  any  pains 
in  studying  the  work  so  as  to  enable  him  to  do  so.  I have 
carried  on  some  of  those  characters  from  book  to  book,  and 
have  had  my  own  ideas  impressed  indelibly  on  my  memory 
by  the  excellence  of  his  delineations.  Those  illustrations 
were  commenced  fifteen  years  ago,  and  from  that  time  up 
to  this  day  my  affection  for  the  man  has  increased.  To  see 
him  has  always  been  a pleasure.  His  voice  has  been  a sweet 
sound  in  my  ears.  Behind  his  back  I have  never  heard  him 
praised  without  joining  the  eulogist;  I have  never  heard 
a word  spoken  against  him  without  opposing  the  censurer. 
These  words,  should  he  ever  see  them,  will  come  to  him 
from  the  grave,  and  will  tell  him  of  my  regard  as  one  living 
man  never  tells  another.” 

The  following  letters  also  serve  to  illustrate  Trollope’s 
appreciation  of  Millais’  drawings,  and  the  profound  contempt 
he  entertained  for  anything  in  the  shape  of  cant  : — 

From  Anthony  Trollope. 

“ Waltham  House,  Waltham  Cross, 

“June  4th,  1863. 

“My  dear  Millais,  — Ten  thousand  thanks  to  you,  and 
twenty  to  your  wife,  as  touching  Ian.  And  now  for  business 
first  and  pleasure  afterwards. 

“ X.  (a  Sunday  magazine)  has  thrown  me  over.  They  write 
me  word  that  I am  too  wicked.  I tell  you  at  once  because  of 
the  projected,  and  now  not-to-be-accomplished  drawings. 
They  have  tried  to  serve  God  and  the  devil  together,  and 


284  JOHN  EVERETT  MILLAIS 

finding  that  goodness  pays  best,  have  thrown  over  me  and 
the  devil.  I won’t  try  to  set  you  against  them,  because  you 
can  do  Parables  and  other  fish  fit  for  their  net ; but  I am 
altogether  unsuited  to  the  regenerated ! It  is  a pity  they 
did  not  find  it  out  before,  but  I think  they  are  right  now. 
I am  unfit  for  the  regenerated,  and  trust  I may  remain  so, 
wishing  to  preserve  a character  for  honest  intentions. 

“ And  now  for  pleasure.  I get  home  the  middle  of  next 
week,  and  we  are  full  up  to  the  consumption  of  all  our  cream 
and  strawberries  till  the  Monday — I believe  I may  say 
Tuesday,  zY.,  Tuesday,  June  16th.  Do,  then,  settle  a day 
with  the  Thackerays  and  Collinses,  and  especially  with 
Admiral  Fitzroy,  to  come  off  in  that  week.  I shall  be  in 
town  on  Wednesday  night.  Look  in  at  about  11.30. 

“ Yours  always, 

“Anthony  Trollope. 

“ Why  have  you  not  put  down  Leighton,  as  you  promised  ? ” 


From  the  same. 

“ Waltham  House,  Waltham  Cross, 

“ August  6th,  1866. 

“ My  dear  Millais, — I have  written  (nearly  finished)  a 
story  in  thirty-two  numbers,  which  is  to  come  out  weekly. 
The  first  number  is  to  appear  some  time  in  October. 
Smith  publishes  it,  and  proposes  that  there  shall  be  one 
illustration  to  every  number,  with  small  vignettes  to  the 
chapter  headings.  Will  you  do  them?  You  said  a word 
to  me  the  other  day,  which  was  to  the  effect  that  you  would 
perhaps  lend  your  hand  to  another  story  of  mine.  Many  of 
the  characters  (indeed  most  of  them)  are  people  you  already 
know  well — Mr.  Crawley,  Mr.  Harding,  Lily  Dale,  Crosbie, 
John  Earns,  and  ‘Lady  Lufton.  George  Smith  is  very 
anxious  that  you  should  consent,  and  you  may  imagine  that 
I am  equally  so.  If  you  can  do  it,  the  sheets  shall  be  sent 
to  you  as  soon  as  they  are  printed,  and  copies  of  your  own 
illustrations  should  be  sent  to  refresh  your  memory.  . . . 
Let  me  have  a line. 

“Yours  always, 

“Anthony  Trollope.” 


$ 

18]J3 


EUPHEMIA  CHALMERS  GRAY.  iS53 


Water-colour 


\ 


CHAPTER  VIII 


Millais’  marriage  — Life  in  Scotland  — First  visitors  — A poaching  keeper  — 
“ Peace  Concluded  ” — “ Autumn  Leaves  ” — Millais’  life  in  chambers  — Serious 
war  with  the  critics — He  is  attacked  on  all  sides  — The  Times  tramples  upon 
him — -The  public  support  him  — Marochetti  — Millais  on  Press  criticism  — 
Charles  Reade  — Birth  of  a son — “Pot-pourri” — The  advantages  of  being 
punctual  — “ Sir  Isumbras  ” received  with  abuse  — Sandy’s  clever  skit  — Sale 
of  “ Sir  Isumbras  ” — Letters  from  Charles  Reade  — “ Escape  of  the  Heretic  ” 
— “The  Crusader’s  Return”  — “The  Vale  of  Rest”  — The  artist’s  difficul- 
ties overcome  — Anecdotes  of  “ The  Vale  of  Rest  ” and  “ The  Love  of  James  I.” 


N July  3rd,  1855,  John  Everett  Millais  was  married  to 


Euphemia  Chalmers  Gray,  eldest  daughter  of  Mr. 
George  Gray,  of  Bowerswell,  Perth.*  In  accordance  with 
the  Scottish  custom,  the  wedding  took  place  in  the  drawing- 
room at  Bowerswell,  and  immediately  afterwards  came  the 
baptism  of  the  bride’s  youngest  brother,  between  whom  and 
his  eldest  sister  there  was  a difference  in  age  of  nearly 
twenty-six  vears. 

And  here  let  me  say  at  once  how  much  of  my  father’s 
happiness  in  after  years  was  due  to  the  chief  event  of  this 
day.  During  the  forty-one  years  of  their  married  life  my 
mother  took  the  keenest  interest  in  his  work,  and  did  all  in 
her  power  to  contribute  to  his  success,  taking  upon  herself 
not  only  the  care  of  the  household  and  the  management  of 
the  family  affairs,  but  the  great  bulk  of  his  correspondence, 
and  saving  him  an  infinity  of  trouble  by  personally  ascertain- 
ing the  objects  of  his  callers  (an  ever  increasing  multitude) 
before  admitting  them  into  his  presence.  A great  relief  this, 
for  business  affairs  and  letter-writing  were  ecjually  hateful  in 

* Miss  Gray  had  been  previously  married,  but  that  marriage  had  been  annulled 
In  1854,  on  grounds  sanctioned  equally  by  Church  and  State.  Both  good  taste 
and  feeling  seem  to  require  that  no  detailed  reference  should  be  made  to  the 
circumstances  attending  that  annulment.  But,  on  behalf  of  those  who  loved  their 
mother  well,  it  may  surely  be  said  that  during  the  course  of  the  judicial  proceed- 
ings instituted  by  her,  and  throughout  the  period  of  the  void  marriage  and  the 
whole  of  her  after  years,  not  one  word  could  be,  or  ever  was,  uttered  impugning  the 
correctness  and  purity  of  her  life. 


287 


288  JOHN  EVERETT  MILLAIS  [r8SS 


his  eyes;  and  in  spite  of  himself,  his  correspondence  increased 
day  by  day. 

Possessed  in  a considerable  degree  of  the  artistic  sense,  she 
was  happily  free  from  the  artistic  temperament,  whilst  her 
knowledge  of  history  proved  also  a valuable  acquisition. 
When  an  historical  picture  was  in  contemplation,  she  de- 
lighted to  study  anew  the  circumstances  and  the  characters 
to  be  depicted,  and  to  gather  for  her  husband’s  use  all 
particulars  as  to  the  scene  and  the  costumes  of  the  period. 

Her  musical  accomplishments 
(for  she  was  an  excellent 
pianist)  were  also  turned  to 
good  account  in  hours  of  leisure, 
and  not  infrequently  as  a sooth- 
ing antidote  to  the  worries  that 
too  often  beset  the  artist  in 
the  exercise  of  his  craft. 

The  newly-married  couple 
set  out  for  their  honeymoon  to 
the  west  of  Scotland  ; and  after 
a lovely  fortnight  in  Argyle- 
shire,  Bute,  and  Arran,  where 
deep-sea  fishing  formed  their 
principal  amusement,  they  re- 
turned to  Perth  and  took 
possession  of  Annat  Lodge, 
a typical  old  house  with  a 
cedared  garden  near  Bowers- 
well. 

Among  their  first  visitors 
was  Charles  Collins.  He,  how- 
ever, was  not  bent  on  amusing 
himself;  he  wanted  to  paint, 
and  at  his  request  my  mother 
sat  for  him  every  day  for  a fortnight.  Then,  seeing  that 
the  picture  made  very  slow  progress,  and  that  she  was  pre- 
sented as  looking  out  of  the  window  of  a railway  carriage  — 
a setting;  that  would  have  vulg-arised  Venus  herself  — she 
refused  to  sit  any  longer,  and  the  picture  was  never  finished. 

After  this  came  a visit  to  Sir  William  Stirling  Maxwell,  of 
Keir,  among  whose  guests  was  the  handsome  and  accom- 
plished Spaniard  Guyanyos  Riano,  who  afterwards  became  a 
firm  friend  of  my  parents.  Sir  William  was  devoted  to 


Study  of  the  bell  in  Winterton  Church  made  by 
John  Luard.  Used  by  Millais  for 
Tennyson  illustrations.  1857 


FIRST  VISITORS 


*855] 


289 


literature,  and  was  then  at  work  on  his  Life  of  Don  John  of 
Austria. 

Their  next  visitors  at  Annat  Lodge  were  John  Leech  and 
Henry  Wells  (now  Royal  Academician),  both  intimate 
friends,  and  when  Mr.  Wells  left,  Leech  and  Millais  amused 
themselves  with  fishing  and  shooting  in  various  parts  of 
Perthshire,  enjoying  especially  a week  at  Blair,  where  they 
were  entertained  by  the  Duke  of  Athol.  It  was  here  that 
“ Mr.  Briggs,”  of  Punch , originated  in  the  fertile  brain  of 
Leech. 

In  the  late  autumn  of  1855  Millais  took  a small  shooting  on 
the  south  bank  of  the  Tay  called  Tarsappie  — handy  of  itself 
as  being  near  the  town, 
and,  as  he  presently  found, 
equally  handy  for  other 
people  who  liked  to  poach 
there.  After  some  ex- 
perience of  their  depre- 
dations it  occurred  to  him 
that  his  keeper  might 
possibly  be  in  league  with 
these  gentry.  So  one  day, 
on  the  eve  of  a shooting 
party  for  which  he  had 
arranged,  he  made  a little 
surprise  visit  to  the  ground, 
when  Mr.  Keeper  was 
discovered  reclining  under 
a tree  with  a goodly  array  of  hares  and  partridges  tastefully 
arranged  within  reach.  These  Millais  promptly  made  him 
gather  up  and  carry  in  front  of  him  to  Annat  Lodge,  growling 
and  groaning  all  the  way  under  the  heavy  load.  There  was 
a vacancy  for  a keeper  at  Tarsappie  next  morning. 

But  it  was  time  now  to  get  to  work  again  in  earnest. 
Nothing  could  be  done  during  the  honeymoon,  and  not  much 
while  guests  were  about;  and  with  pictures  in  hand  and 
publishers  pressing  for  drawings  any  further  holiday  was 
impossible.  So  limiting  his  amusements  to  a day  now  and 
then  at  his  shooting,  Millais  settled  down  to  work  for  the 
winter,  taking  up,  first,  the  special  edition  of  Tennyson 
published  by  Moxon,  for  which  he  made  twelve  drawings, 
and  afterwards  eighteen  illustrations  for  the  edition  pub- 
lished by  Macmillan.  At  these  he  worked  mainly  in  the 

1 — 19 


WINTERTON  CHURCH  BELLS 
By  John  Luard 


290  JOHN  EVERETT  MILLAIS  [1855 

evenings,  with  the  aid  of  a reflector  lamp,  commencing  imme- 
diately after  dinner  and  seldom  leaving  off  before  midnight. 
And  this  after  painting  most  of  the  day  ! 

Mr.  Wells  tells  me  that  while  he  and  Leech  were  there 
the  evenings  were  generally  spent  in  this  way,  Millais 
working  away  in  the  dining-room,  in  company  with  them- 
selves and  my  mother;  and  nothing  surprised  them  so  much 
as  the  energy  and  persistence  with  which  their  host  worked 
while  carrying  on  at  the  same  time  a lively  conversation  with 
his  wife  and  guests. 

The  picture  called  “ Peace  Concluded,  1856,”  but  better 
known  as  “ The  Return  from  the  Crimea,”  was  painted  this 
year,  the  subject  being  a wounded  officer  lying  on  a couch, 
at  the  head  of  which  is  seated  his  wife.  An  Irish  wolf-hound 
is  also  lying  curled  up  on  the  sofa.  Of  this  picture  Ruskin 
in  his  “ Notes  ” wrote  in  terms  which  have  seemed  somewhat 
extravagant  to  other  critics:  — “Titian  himself  could  hardly 
head  him  now.  This  picture  is  as  brilliant  in  invention  as 
consummate  in  executive  power.  Both  this  and  4 Autumn 
Leaves  ’ will  rank  in  future  among  the  world’s  best  master- 
pieces.” 

Colonel  “ Bob  ” Malcolm  sat  for  the  man,  and  my  mother 
for  the  lady;  the  portrait  of  her  at  this  period  being,  I am 
told,  singularly  life-like.  The  Irish  wolf-hound,  “ Roswell,” 
bred  in  the  Queen’s  kennels,  was  given  to  my  mother  by  a 
Mr.  Debas,  and  was  the  only  pet  animal  she  and  my  father 
ever  possessed.  They  were  both  much  attached  to  him,  but 
he  became  such  a terrible  poacher  that,  to  save  him  from 
being  shot,  they  sent  him  out  to  Australia,  to  my  uncle, 
George  Gray,  who  found  him  most  useful  in  hunting  big 
kangaroos,  until  he  came  to  an  untimely  end  by  eating  some 
poisoned  meat  that  had  been  put  out  for  the  dingoes. 

The  picture  was  purchased  by  Mr.  James  Miller,  of 
Preston.  It  is  not,  however,  a good  example  of  his  art, 
though  there  are  beautiful  passages  in  the  work. 

“ Autumn  Leaves  ” is  too  well  known  to  need  any  descrip- 
tion here.  It  was  painted  this  year  in  the  garden  at  Annat 
Lodge,  and  probably  in  none  of  Millais’  works  is  the  charm 
of  the  northern  afterglow  more  strikingly  presented.  That 
it  was  highly  appreciated  by  Mr.  Ruskin  may  be  gathered 
from  the  Academy  Notes , 1856,  in  which  he  refers  to  it  as 
“ by  much  the  most  poetical  work  the  painter  has  yet  con- 
ceived; and  also,  so  far  as  I know,  the  first  instance  of  a 


“AUTUMN  LEAVES” 


291 


1856] 

perfectly  painted  twilight.  It  is  easy,  as  it  is  common,  to 
give  obscurity  to  twilight,  but  to  give  the  glow  within  its 
darkness  is  another  matter;  and  though  Giorgione  might 
have  come  nearer  the  glow,  he  never  gave  the  valley  mist. 
Note  also  the  subtle  difference  between  the  purple  of  the 
long  nearer  range  of  hills  and  the  blue  of  the  distant  peak.” 
The  picture  (lately  the  property  of  Mr.  James  Leathart) 
was  originally  sold  to  Mr.  Eden,  of  Lytham,  from  whom 
it  passed  to  Mr.  Miller,  the  purchaser  of  “ Peace  Concluded.” 
How  he  came  by  it  is  amusingly  told  by  a writer  in  the 
Magazine  of  Art  of  November,  1S96,  who  says:  — “I 
should  like  to  relate  to  you  a circumstance  connected  with 
‘Autumn  Leaves,’  which  I heard  from  Mr.  Eden  at  Lytham. 
When  the  picture  reached  him  he  did  not  like  it,  and  he 
asked  the  great  painter  to  take  it  back;  but  this,  Mrs. 
Millais  said,  was  impossible.  He  was  then  told  to  sit 
opposite  it  when  at  dinner  for  some  months,  and  he  would 
learn  to  like  it.  He  tried  this,  but  alas!  disliked  it  more 
and  more.  One  day  a friend  — I think  Mr.  Miller  of 
Preston — called,  saw  the  picture,  was  enchanted,  and  said, 

‘ Eden,  I will  give  you  any  three  of  my  pictures  for 
‘ Autumn  Leaves.’  1 As  you  are  a great  friend,’  said  Eden, 
‘you  shall  have  it’;  and  so  the  picture  changed  hands. 
This  is  what  Mr.  Eden  told  me,  and  it  is  on  its  way  to 
be  amongst  the  world’s  masterpieces.” 

Besides  these  works  Millais  found  time  to  paint,  in  the 
spring  of  1856,  a small  picture  of  a soldier  in  the  42nd 
Highlanders  (“News  from  Home”),  which  he  sold  to  Mr. 
Arthur  Lewis,  and  also  a little  portrait  of  Mrs.  John  Leech, 
which  he  presented  to  her  out  of  affection  for  her  husband. 
And  in  the  Academy  he  exhibited,  in  addition  to  “Peace 
Concluded  ” and  “ Autumn  Leaves,”  a “ Portrait  of  a Gentle- 
man,” “ L’Enfant  du  Regiment,”  and  “ The  Blind  Girl.” 

To  arrange  for  this  exhibition  while  continuing  his  work 
in  town,  he  left  Annat  Lodge  at  the  beginning  of  April, 
and  took  rooms  in  Langham  Chambers  along  with  his 
friend  Captain  John  Luard ; and  here,  while  working  with  a 
will,  they  enjoyed  themselves  right  heartily,  after  the  free- 
and-easy  fashion  dear  to  the  heart  of  youth.  The  two 
painters  kept  open  house  to  their  friends,  but  generally 
spent  their  evenings  at  the  Garrick,  where  many  of  the 
literary  and  artistic  celebrities  of  the  day  delighted  to 
congregate  when  their  work  was  over. 


292 


JOHN  EVERETT  MILLAIS 


[1856 


( 


As  to  Millais,  he  was  in  no  wise  cowed  by  the  combined 
forces  of  the  Press  and  the  Academy,  who  now  put  forth 
their  strength  to  crush  him  as  the  leader  of  the  new  school 
of  artists.  Knowing  that  he  stood  on  the  vantage-ground 
of  truth,  he  faced  his  foes  in  full  assurance  of  victory  in 
the  end,  whatever  he  might  suffer  in  gaining  it.  And  that 
he  did  suffer  — in  person,  if  not  in  purse — is  evident  from 
some  of  his  letters  to  his  wife,  in  which,  as  will  presently  be 
seen,  he  complains  bitterly  of  his  treatment. 

In  reading  these  letters  it 
must  be  borne  in  mind  that  in 
those  days  a great  London  news- 
paper had  far  more  influence  in 
the  formation  of  public  opinion 
than  it  has  to-day,  especially  in 
country  places,  where  the  utter- 
ances of  the  great  “We”  were 
too  often  regarded  as  “confirm- 
ation strong  as  proof  of  Holy 
Writ.”  Allowance,  too,  must  be 
made  for  the  fact  that  the  letters 
were  written  in  the  hot  youth 
of  a man  keenly  alive  to  praise 
or  blame,  and  whose  whole 
V J future  depended  on  the  issue 
of  the  struggle  in  which  he  was 
engaged.  Not  only  were  the 
leading  newspapers  against  him, 
but  some  of  the  most  influential 
members  of  the  Academy  joined 
in  the  crusade  with  an  animosity 
hardly  conceivable  in  these 
liberal  and  more  enlightened  times;  and  but  for  the  audacity 
he  displayed  in  his  dealings  with  them,  they  would  have 
given  him  no  chance  of  showing  his  pictures  to  advantage. 

Happily  all  this  sort  of  thing  has  long  gone  by.  With 
a magnanimity  worthy  of  our  greatest  paper,  the  limes  has 
made  full  amends  for  the  mistakes  of  former  years;  and 
much  the  same  thing  maybe  said  of  other  papers;  while 
as  to  the  Academy,  it  is  to-day  about  as  pure  and  fair  a 
tribunal  as  any  on  earth. 

But  now  to  the  letters  themselves,  from  which,  as  a picture 
of  my  father’s  life  at  this  period,  I quote  somewhat  fully. 


Original  Studies  for  “Edward  Gray’ 
Tennyson  illustrations.  1857 


ALICE  GRAY.  1853 
Pencil  study 


*356] 


LETTERS  TO  HIS  WIFE 


295 


Writing  to  his  wife,  he  says:  — 

“ April  ]tk,  1856.  — We  have  just  had  breakfast.  Luard 
is  smoking  a first  pipe,  and  has  prepared  a palette  for  me 
to  paint  the  little  child’s  white  dress.  I found  everything 
so  nicely  packed,  my  darling,  that  Luard  has  been  noticing  it 
and  envying  me. 

“I  cannot  express  the  success  of  the  pictures.  It  is  far 
beyond  our  most  sanguine  expectations.  I have  increased 
the  price  of  all  three  [‘Peace  Concluded,’  ‘Autumn  Leaves,’ 
and  ‘The  Blind  Girl’],  which  I shall  get  without  any 
difficulty;  and  my  studio  has  been  already  filled  with  eager 
purchasers  begging  me  to  remember  them  next  year. 

“All  other  years  pass  into  absolute  insignificance  com- 
pared with  this.  I shall  make  a struggle  to  get  the  little 
soldier  finished  ; but  I am  to  go  and  help  a brother  artist, 
poor  Martineau,  who  is  in  a fix  with  a picture. 

“ The  artists  here  imagine  that  my  pictures  are  the  work 
of  years,  instead  of  a few  months.  There  has  been  a report 
that  I have  taken  to  the  most  unfinished  style,  which,  like 
many  evil  reports,  have  their  good  effect  on  me,  for  the 
pictures  seem  to  astonish  people  more  than  ever  by  their 
finish.  I know  how  pleased  you  will  be  to  hear  this ; but 
you  must  not  be  too  much  elated;  for  this  great  mercy  from 
God  is  very  awful,  and  I cannot  help  feeling  a little  nervous 
about  it,  fearing  a possible  turn  in  my  fortune.  This, 
however,  may  be  unnecessary  and  wrong  in  me;  but  seeing 
how  differently  He  deals  with  many  others  about  us,  I am 
surprised  at  the  steps  I have  made  in  advance.” 

After  observing  how  different  his  and  his  friend  Holman 
Hunt’s  styles  are  becoming,  after  running  so  long  together, 
he  continues:  “What  Ruskin  and  the  critics  are  to  do,  I 
don't  know;  but  it  will  be  great  fun  for  us.” 

In  another  letter  at  this  period  he  says : “I  am  ashamed 
of  myself  for  not  having  been  to  church  to-day.  I slept  so 
sound  that  the  bells  were  ringing  before  I was  out  of  bed. 
Luard  and  Robert  Malcolm  get  on  admirably  together.  They 
are  at  this  moment  talking  about  the  Crimea,  and  we  have 
just  been  looking  at  L.’s  sketches  from  Sebastopol.  Halliday 
has  just  appeared,  so  I am  writing  this  in  a howl  of  conver- 
sation and  much  smoke.  I dine  with  Leech  at  six.” 

And  on  April  18 th.  — “Yesterday  I went  with  Luard  to 
the  Garrick,  and  afterwards  to  the  Olympic  Theatre,  to  see 
Still  Waters  Run  Deep , a most  admirable  play,  and  delight- 


296  JOHN  EVERETT  MILLAIS  [is56 

fully  acted.  This  afternoon  I go  with  Leech  and  his  madam 
to  choose  the  bonnets.  He  says  there  is  but  one  really  good 
place  — not  a shop  — so  I daresay  I shall  be  able  to  get 
something  pretty  for  you.  . . .” 

After  sending  in  his  pictures  to  the  Academy  he  went 
home  to  Perth  for  a few  days,  and  then  returning  to  town  he 
hastened  to  the  Academy,  to  see  how  his  works  had  been 
hung.  What  he  found  there  is  related  in  the  following 
letter:  — 


“Langham  Chambers,  April  29^/z,  1856. 

“ Dearest  Countess,  [a  nonsensical  term  he  often  applied 
to  my  mother]  — Yesterday  I went  to  the  Royal  Academy,  and 
made  Luard  write  to  you,  as  you  would  be  anxious  to  hear 
how  my  pictures  were  placed.  Nothing  could  be  better.  The 
largest  (‘  The  Return  from  the  Crimea  ’)  is  next  to  Edwin 
Landseer’s,  in  the  large  room.  ‘Autumn  Leaves’  is  in  the 
middle  room,  beautifully  seen  ; and,  I think,  the  best  appre- 
ciated. ‘The  Blind  Girl'  is  in  the  third  room  (the  first 
going  into  the  exhibition)  on  the  line,  but  rather  higher  than 
I like,  as  its  finish  is  out  of  the  reach  of  short  people.  The 
child  on  the  tomb  [‘ L’ Enfant  du  Regiment']  is  also  in  this 
room,  and  perfectly  hung. 

“I  saw  Landseer  there,  and  Grant,  who  was  most  civil; 
and  both  expressed  great  admiration  for  my  work.  There  is 
a great  movement  just  now  in  the  matter  of  copyright,  and 
I enclose  a paper  distributed  to  the  members  on  the  subject. 
There  must  soon  be  a better  understanding  between  artists 
and  dealers. 

“Last  night  I went  to  the  theatre  with  Egg  and  Luard, 
and  afterwards  to  the  Garrick,  where  I met  Leech,  who  wants 
me  to  dine  at  Richmond  with  him  next  Sunday.  ...  I long 
to  be  back  for  good,  and  begin  the  trees  in  blossom." 

My  father  was  very  fond  of  going  out  in  the  evening, 
either  to  the  Garrick  or  to  a theatre,  with  some  of  his 
particular  friends.  On  May  1st,  1856,  he  writes:  “Last 
night  Martineau,  Halliday,  and  I dined  with  Luard  at  the 
Garrick,  after  which  we  adjourned  to  the  Victoria  Theatre, 
for  the  fun  of  the  thing,  to  see  a regular  out-and-out  melo- 
drama, and  were  not  disappointed.  We  got  a box  for  5^., 
and  laughed  so  immoderately  at  the  pathetic  parts  that  we 
were  nearly  turned  out.  I dine  with  Leech  on  Sunday,  at 


LETTERS  TO  HIS  WIFE 


1856] 


297 


the  ‘ Star  and  Garter’  at  Richmond,  and  with  Hunt  to-night ; 
so  I have  plenty  of  occupation.” 

It  will  be  seen  from  the  following  letters  how  the  world, 
the  critics,  and  the  purchasers  of  his  pictures  were  disposed 
towards  him : — 

“ May  2nd , 1S56.  — The  private  view  is  going  on,  but  I don’t 
go  near  the  Royal  Academy,  of  course.  I went  for  amusement 
to  Christie’s  auction-rooms,  to  see  Rogers’  pictures  sold,  and 
there  met  Mr.  Miller  who  had  just  come  from  the  exhibition, 
mightily  pleased  with  his  ‘ Peace  Concluded.’  Everything  is 
going  on  splendidly,  and  I now  wait  for  the  verdict  of  the 
public,  zuho  are  the  only  really  disinterested  critics.  Every 
day  I meet  with  the  Academicians  I perceive  new  horrors. 
So  determined  are  they  to  insult  every  man  who  chooses  to 
purchase  my  works,  that  this  year  they  have  done  the  same 
with  Miller  as  they  did  with  Arden,  when  he  bought  ‘The 
Order  of  Release.’  For  the  first  time  they  have  not  sent 
him  an  invitation  to  the  dinner,  at  which  he  smiles,  knowing 
the  reason.  Anyhow,  it  is  rather  a triumph  for  us,  as  these 
wretched,  ungentlemanly  dealings  only  tend  to  reveal  the  truth.” 

“ May  1 si,  1S56.  — I have  just  come  from  the  Academy, 
which  is  open  to  the  public  this  morning.  I saw  Eden  (the 
owner  of  ‘Autumn  Leaves’),  which  was  my  reason  for 
going,  but  I didn’t  go  into  the  rooms,  as  I did  not  wish  to 
be  seen  near  my  pictures.  The  impression  of  all  the  best 
men  is  most  flattering  to  me,  in  spite  of  the  same  unjust  and 
determined  opposition.  On  the  whole,  the  critics  are  rather 
worse  than  ever,  but  it  really  does  not  seem  to  matter  much, 
beyond  leading  ignorant  people  to  say  very  foolish  things. 

“ I have  found  out  the  name  of  the  Times  critic.  It  is 
F , an  artist.  I don’t,  indeed,  expect  any  better  treat- 

ment from  the  Press  in  my  lifetime,  as  the  critics  are  too  inti- 
mately mixed  up  with  the  profession.  Of  course,  there  are 
many  criticisms  as  much  in  favour  as  some  are  against.  I 
would  not  see  them,  however,  had  not  Leech  made  me  look 
at  some,  to  see  how  absurdly  contradictory  they  are ; but  the 
result  is  the  same  as  in  other  years  — there  is  no  getting  near 
the  pictures  at  the  opening  — so  I am  perfectly  satisfied  with 
the  reception  of  them  this  year. 

“ The  only  reason  for  being  annoyed  at  the  continued 
bullying  from  the  Press  is  on  your  account  and  that  of  your 
family  and  friends,  who  think  more  of  the  matter  than  people 
in  London,  who  only  laugh  at  it.  . . .” 


298  JOHN  EVERETT  MILLAIS  risS6 

“ May  3 rd , 1856.  — Luard  is  smoking  benignly,  and  asking 
me  about  the  Royal  Academy,  and  I have  some  difficulty  to 
write  this  and  answer  his  questions  about  the  exhibition.  I 
cannot  tell  you  of  the  incivility  of  certain  of  the  members 
and  their  cantankerous  and  jealous  criticisms  and  un- 
generosity. It  is  nothing  new  to  me,  however,  for  I have 
seen  it  for  some  years  now.  I dined  at  the  Garrick  yester- 
day, and  saw  David  Roberts,  r.a.,  and  exchanged  civilities. 
In  the  exhibition  there  is  a very  striking  portrait  of  Miss 
Guyanjos,  by  John  Phillip;  but  Landseer  and  others  say  it 
is  only  a libel  on  her.  . . . Gambart  [the  dealer]  has  been 

here,  but  I cannot  get  him  to 
sign  the  paper.  No  one  will, 
under  the  present  state  of  the 
copyright  law.  If  he  signed 
it  he  would  be  responsible  for 
the  actions  of  others,  which  no 
man  would  do.  Besides,  there 
would  always  be  such  a drag 
in  the  sale  of  the  picture,  for 
men  will  not  purchase  anything 
with  a claim  still  on  it.  There 
is  a great  stir  in  the  matter  of 
copyright,  and  I think  some- 
thing will  be  done.  As  it  stands, 
I hear  it  is  impossible  to  obtain 
1856  any  legal  hold  in  the  matter. 

But  enough  of  ‘ shop.’  I must 
be  off  to  the  Royal  Academy  again,  to  make  a sketch  of 
the  heads  in  ‘Autumn  Leaves’  for  the  Illustrated  London 
News.  . . .” 

The  plot  continued  to  thicken.  Next  day  Millais  writes  : — 
“ I hope  this  will  come  to  hand  before  you  see  the  Times , 
which  is  more  wickedly  against  me  this  year  than  ever.  It 
is  well  understood  here  that  the  criticism  is  not  above  board, 
and  that  there  is  more  than  mere  ignorance  in  the  man. 
Beyond  a sudden  surprise  on  seeing  the  criticism,  I was  not 
much  disturbed,  as  it  has  been  my  fate  from  the  first,  and 
probably  will  be  to  the  last,  to  meet  with  ungenerous  treat- 
ment from  newspapers.  A very  young  man  doesn’t  get 
900  guineas  for  his  pictures  without  some  attempt  at  de- 
traction. I am  of  course  greatly  astonished,  as  it  is  settled 
that  I am  to  paint  the  principal  man  of  the  paper.  This 


LETTERS  TO  HIS  WIFE 


1S56] 


299 


makes  it  a riddle,  and  will  doubtless  cause  strange  observa- 
tions. All  I beg  of  you  and  your  family  is  to  wait  and  see 
how  one  young  man  will  oblige  the  great  British  organ  to 
alter  their  views.  There  is  some  underhand  trickery  which 
must  sooner  or  later  come  to  light.  I am  not  at  all  sure  that 
it  does  not  spring  from  the  Academy  itself ; indeed,  there  is 
every  reason  to  suppose  it  does.  The  envy  and  this  deter- 
mined cabal  against  me  make  me  long  to  return  home.  In 
one  word,  I have  the  whole  of  the 
Royal  Academy  (with  one  or  two 
exceptions)  dead  against  me,  which 
makes  all  intercourse  with  them 
unpleasant.  The  4 Peace  Concluded  ’ 
has  sold  for  a great  deal  more  than 
any  other  picture  in  the  Royal 
Academy  excepting  Landseer’s,  and 
I shall  obtain  a still  better  price 
next  year.  With  this  knowledge, 

I think  we  may  rest  very  well 
satisfied,  as  such  solid  success  is 
never  achieved  against  such  powerful 
opposition  without  its  having  un- 
mistakable deserts.  This  the  world 
will  see,  in  spite  of  all  these  shameful 
attempts  to  ruin  me. 

“ I hope  you  will  not  care  a straw 
for  the  Times  criticism.  Our  fathers 
will  feel  it  much  more  than  we,  as 
they  know  less  of  the  humbug  of 
the  British  Press.  People  here  in 
London  soon  perceive  the  injustice 
of  such  articles,  so  they  go  for  nothing;  but  of  course  it 
retards  my  position  in  the  country,  where  people  regard  as 
gospel  what  they  read  in  the  newspapers.  Now  let  me 
assure  you  that  I am  4 quite  calm  ' (as  the  French  say),  and 
you  must  not  disturb  yourself  by  picturing  me  in  the  act  of 
tearing  my  hair  for  mortification.  Nothiner  of  the  kind, 
my  love;  I am  quite  merry.” 

When  the  Academy  was  opened  to  the  public  an  extra- 
ordinary amount  of  interest  was  shown  in  his  work.  There 
was  always  a big  crowd  round  his  pictures,  but  he  was  too 
shy  to  go  near  them  himself. 

On  May  8th,  1S56,  he  writes  in  the  following  strain:  — “ I 


v’  for  Tennyson  Illustrations 
Circ.  1857 


3oo  JOHN  EVERETT  MILLAIS  [isS6 

never  expected  such  complete  success  as  the  pictures  are 
making.  People  cannot  get  near  the  two  largest.  I saw 
Marochetti  [the  great  Italian  sculptor  who  worked  in  Eng- 
land] yesterday,  and  he  made  several  attempts,  but  could  see 
nothing.  What  the  Baron  said  is  sufficiently  cheering.  His 
coloured  marble  busts  are  magnificent  beyond  everything.  I 
was  so  delighted  with  the  surpassing  beauty  of  a soft-coloured 
head  (in  marble,  of  course)  of  some  relation  of  the  Princess, 
that  I expressed  a hope  that  some  day  I should  be  rich 
enough  to  afford  having  you  done  in  the  same  way;  when  he 
jumped  at  the  thought,  and  said  he  would  consider  it  an 
understood  thing  that  he  should  make  a bust  of  you  in  return 
for  any  sketch  I should  give  him,  adding  that  he  would  beg 
my  acceptance  of  it  if  I hesitated.  He  has  seen  you,  and 
admires  you  immensely.  Indeed,  as  he  is  very  desirous  of 
getting  portraits  of  all  the  most  beautiful  persons  he  can  get 
to  sit,  this  kindness  has  something  to  do  with  your  looks.  . . . 

“ I never  saw  anything  more  shameless  than  the  treatment 
by  the  R.A.  of  my  work.  Every  year  it  is  the  same.  The 
surest  sign  of  a young  man’s  work  being  worthless  is 
generosity  and  applause  from  the  Academy!  ...  I have 
seen  other  papers  all  absurdly  contradicting  their  former 
selves.  Most  of  them  are  better  than  any  I have  ever  before 
received  ; and  some  that  have  tremendously  abused  me  for 
years  have  changed  their  critics,  and  now  as  immoderately 
praise  me.  The  Atheuceum,  Spectator , Chronicle , Press , 
Advertiser , and  many  others  praise  me  up  to  the  skies,  and 
papers  that  used  hitherto  to  applaud  now  hiss  me!  It  is 
simply  ridiculous,  but  (as  I am  happy  to  think)  you  all  under- 
stand this,  so  I won’t  say  any  more  about  it.  I don’t  think 
there  have  ever  been  such  endeavours  to  swamp  a man  as  in 
my  case,  or  ever  such  a complete  failure.” 

In  these  days,  as  will  be  seen,  he  felt  keenly  the  shameless 
attacks  of  the  critics,  although  personally  so  successful  ; for 
the  artistic  temperament  is  not  prone  to  bear  patiently 
the  pin-pricks  of  constant  and  malignant  opposition.  His 
letter  to  my  mother,  dated  May  8th,  1S56,  shows  this. 
He  says:  — “ I thought  of  you  yesterday.  You  may  imagine 
how  heartily  I wish  you  ‘ many  happy  returns  of  the  day.’  I 
have  a very  nice  letter  from  your  father  this  morning,  and 
think  that  his  version  may  be  the  right  one.  Certainly  there 
never  were  such  cunningly  devised  machinations  against  my 
character  and  fortune.  It  makes  me  hate  ‘ London’s  fine 


“THE  RESCUE.”  1855 

By  permission  0/  Mr.  Holbrook  Gaskell 


iSs6] 


LETTERS  TO  HIS  WIFE 


3°3 


city,’  and  feel  less  dependence  on  the  things  of  this  world. 
Poor  Hunt,  though  well  praised  in  the  Press,  has  not  found  a 
purchaser  for  his  ‘ Scapegoat,’  in  spite  of  the  lowness  of  the 
price  he  asks.  A very  highly  finished  picture,  too,  and  twice 
the  size  of  my  largest. 

“ The  newspaper  criticisms  are  by  no  means  all  against 
me,  and  I have  more  confidence  in  the  weekly  and  monthly 
periodicals  ; but  with  all  against  me  I could  still  hold  my 
place.  It  is  only  a matter  of  time  — perhaps  beyond  our  lives 
— but  ultimately  right  and  truth  must  prevail.  I confess  it  is 
a lesson  to  me — all  this  determined  opposition.  The  best 
art  does  not  at  first  meet  with  general  comprehension,  and  I 
believe  sincerely  that  the  chief  reason  why  my  works  are  so 
picked  to  pieces  is  their  being  out  of  the  scale  of  received 
conventionalities.  One  thing  you  will  notice  is  that  no 
criticism  or  reports  go  to  say  that  any  of  the  faces  in  the 
pictures  are  ugly,  and  hundreds  are  daily  exclaiming  about 
the  beauty  of  the  heads  of  the  children.  I cease  to  feel  any 
more  upon  the  subject,  as  nearly  every  notice  goes  only  to 
contradict  the  preceding  one.  I see,  too,  everybody  more  or 
less  inclined  to  lean  favourably  to  Hunt,  after  abusing  him. 
If  uman  nature  all  over!  It  has  been  gradually  coming  to 
this,  and  I have  now  lost  all  hope  of  gaining  just  appreciation 
in  the  Press;  but,  thank  goodness,  1 the  proof  of  the  pudding 
is  in  the  eating,’  for  in  that  way  they  cannot  harm  me,  except 
(as  your  father  shrewdly  remarks)  in  the  copyright.  Nothing 
could  have  been  more  adverse  than  the  criticism  on  ‘ The 
Huguenot ,’  yet  the  engraving  is  now  selling  more  rapidly  than 
any  other  of  recent  times.  I have  great  faith  in  the  mass  of 
the  public,  although  one  hears  now  and  then  such  grossly 
ignorant  remarks.  ...  It  is  just  the  same  with  music  and 
literature.  At  Gambart’s  last  night,  a man  made  a complete 
buffoon  of  himself  with  wretched  ‘comic’  songs,  and  the 
audience  screamed  with  enjoyment.  Also  at  the  Haymarket 
Theatre  the  comedy  there  — a farrago  of  old,  worn-out  jokes, 
badly  acted  — was  received  with  enthusiasm,  and  parts  meant 
for  pathos  were  mistaken  for  fun  and  laughed  at  accordingly.” 

After  giving  some  details  of  the  ways  of  the  two  largest 
dealers  in  London,  one  of  whom  always  dealt  fairly  with  him, 
whilst  the  other  invariably  “made  a poor  mouth”  and 
“crabbed”  his  pictures,  but  always  re-sold  greatly  to  his 
own  advantage,  as  well  as  making  a small  fortune  out  of  the 
copyrights,  he  continues:  — 


3o4  JOHN  EVERETT  MILLAIS  [i8S6 

“ I have  been  to  Gambart’s  this  morning  to  settle  how  he 
is  to  pay  for  ‘ The  Blind  Girl.’  All  men  have  different  ways 
of  dealing,  and  his  way  is  to  pay  me  the  moment  the  picture 
is  in  his  possession.  This  is  understood  ; and  directly  the 
R.A.  closes  (three  months  from  now)  he  settles.  . . . Now  I 

have  to  see  X (another  dealer),  with  whom  I have  had 

no  conversation  since  the  opening.  I have  purposely  kept 
away,  so  that  he  might  learn  the  feeling  of  the  intelligent 
public  about  the  picture  he  has  bought.  If  I had  been 
before,  I know  he  would  have  quoted  (as  he  did  last  year) 
the  newspaper  criticisms,  and  their  prejudicial  influence, 

etc.,  etc.  But,  curiously 
enough,  whenever  an 
engraving  conies  out 
from  his  firm  there  is 
always  a favourable 
article  in  the  papers.  . . . 

“ Since  there  is  such 
a demand  for  my  works, 
I can  afford  not  to  be 
humbugged  by  these 
people,  as  other  poor 
fellows  are;  and  I think 
one  great  reason  for 
the  opposition  this  year 
is  the  sudden  great  in- 
crease in  my  prices. 
The  dealers,  of  course, 
like  to  get  pictures  for  £200  and  sell  them  for  £ 2000 . . . . 
I am  continually  the  object  of  unpleasant  remarks  from 
women  as  well  as  men,  but  beyond  working  out  conscien- 
tiously a means  of  support  for  us  both,  I do  not  care  ; and 
this,  please  God,  I shall  accomplish  in  time.” 

As  a further  insight  into  the  rotten  criticisms  of  the 
period,  a day  or  two  later  he  tells  of  the  treatment  meted 
out  to  Charles  Reade,  whom  he  mentions  for  the  first  time, 
and  who  afterwards  became  a great  friend  of  his. 

“ May , 1856.  — I have  just  come  from  the  Crimean  lecture 
of  the  Times  correspondent,  Russell  [Sir  William  Howard 
Russell,  afterwards  a devoted  friend],  on  the  war.  It  was 
odd  to  see  the  man  who  at  the  time  of  the  war  was  dreaded 
by  both  the  army  and  the  navy  brought  before  the  public, 
to  receive  in  his  turn  their  criticism.  . . .” 


SKETCH  FOR  TENNYSON  ILLUSTRATION.  1856 


1856] 


BIRTH  OF  A SON 


3°5 


Here  follows  an  account  of  the  lecture,  which  took  place 
before  empty  seats,  in  spite  of  the  eulogistic  prelude  of  the 
Times ; for  only  the  famous  correspondent’s  personal  friends 
mustered  in  force:  — “I  dined  at  the  Garrick  with  Reade, 
the  author  of  It  is  Never  too  Late  to  Mend.  He  is 
delighted  with  my  pictures,  and  regards  all  criticism  as 


worthless.  He  has  never  been 
although  his  book  has  passed 
most  of  the  first-class  novels. 
White  [the  dealer]  brought  a 
finished  proof  of  ‘The  Hugue- 
not’ this  morning,  and  the 
few  slight  corrections  Barlow 


reviewed  at  all  in  the  Times , 
through  more  editions  than 


has  to  make 
more  than 
may  look  for 


[the  engraver] 
will  not  take  him 
a week  ; so  you 
it  very  soon.” 

On  May  30th  Annat  Lodge 
was  enlivened  by  the  birth  of 
Millais’  first  child  (Everett), 
news  of  which  he  conveyed 
to  his  cousin, 


Mrs.  George 
the  following 

O 


a line  to  say 
distinguished 
gentleman. 


Hodgkinson,  in 
terms  : — “Just 
that  1 am  the 
owner  of  a little 
The  nurse,  of  course,  says  it 
is  like  me,  adding  that  it  is  an 
extremely  handsome  produc- 
tion ! But  what  nurse  does 
not  say  the  same  thing  ? How- 
ever, it  has  blue  eyes  and  a 
little  downy  brown  on  the  top 
of  its  head.” 

For  the  holiday  season 
Millais  took  the  manse  of  Brig-o’-Turk  in  Glenfinlas,  and  in 
August  he  and  my  mother  went  there,  accompanied  by  her 
sisters,  Alice  and  Sophie  Gray.  Here,  after  an  interval  of 
shooting  and  fishing,  he  painted  a small  portrait  of  the 
minister  — a hard-featured  and  by  no  means  prepossessin 
Celt  — and  then,  returning  to  Annat  Lodge,  he  set  to  wor 
on  “ Pot-pourri  ” and  “ Sir  Isumbras  at  the  Ford.” 

Foreseeing  that  an  account  of  her  husband’s  pictures  — 


rrj  q 


3°6  JOHN  EVERETT  MILLAIS  [1856 

how,  when,  and  where  they  were  painted,  and  what  became 
of  them  — would  some  day  be  of  interest,  my  mother  deter- 
mined to  keep  a record  of  all  that  he  painted  after  their 
marriage,  and  forthwith  started  a book  for  that  purpose. 
But,  alas ! the  work  was  never  completed.  My  father  made 
such  fun  of  it  that  in  1S68  she  unwillingly  gave  it  up.  It 
contains,  however,  explicit  information  about  several  of  his 
works.  Of  “ Pot-pourri  ” she  says  : — “ This  little  picture 
was  painted  for  a Mr.  Burnett,  but  when  completed  he  was 
unable  to  purchase  it.  It  was  painted  from  my  sister  Alice 
and  little  Smythe  of  Methven  Castle,  Alice’s  dress  of  green 
satin  and  point  flounces  forming  a happy  contrast  to  the 
rich  velvet  and  gold  trimmings  in  little  Smythe’s  dress. 
The  background  is  principally  crimson,  and  the  whole  effect 
very  rich  and  brilliant. 

“ Mr.  Millais  sold  this  picture  to  Mr.  White,  the  dealer 
in  Madox  Street,  for  ^150,  and  he  in  turn  sold  it,  a week  or 
two  afterwards,  for  ^200  to  Mr.  G.  Windus,  junior. 

“ When  Mr.  Burnett  saw  it  he  was  most  anxious  to  get  it, 
and  White  promised  it  to  him  if  he  came  on  a certain  day 
not  later  than  four  p.m.  Mr.  Windus,  however,  was  equally 
determined  to  have  it ; and,  arriving  early  on  the  appointed 
day,  he  waited  till  the  clock  struck  four,  and  then  carried 
off  the  picture  in  a cab,  to  the  great  disgust  of  Mr.  Burnett, 
who  arrived  a quarter  of  an  hour  late.”  Moral  — Even 
in  business  it  is  well  to  be  punctual  now  and  then. 

My  mother  has  some  interesting  notes  on  the  subject  of 
“ Sir  Isumbras,”  which  she  calls  “ The  Knight,  a dream 
of  the  past,  1857.” 

“ This  picture  occupied  Mr.  Millais  during  the  winter 
in  conjunction  with  ‘ The  Heretic.’  He  was  extremely 
expeditious  in  finishing  the  background,  which  did  not  take 
him  more  than  a fortnight.  During  the  end  of  October  and 
beginning  of  November,  1856,  he  went  every  day  to  the 
Bridge  of  Earn  and  painted  the  old  bridge  and  the  range 
of  the  Ochills  from  under  the  new  bridge,  composing  the 
rest  by  adding  a medieval  tower.*  The  gardener  afterwards 
brought  a large  quantity  of  flags  from  the  river,  and  they 
were  put  in  a tub  and  painted  in  his  studio.  The  horse 
gave  him  a world  of  vexation  from  first  to  last.  He  always 

* The  tower  was  painted  from  old  Elcho  Castle,  situated  on  the  south  bank  of 
the  Tay,  six  miles  below  Perth.  An  additional  group  of  trees  also  aided  the 
composition. 


“ THE  BLIND  GIRL.1’  1856 

By  permission  0/ the  Corporation  0/ Birmingham 


“SIR  ISUMBRAS  ” 


1856J 


3°9 


said  he  had  chosen  a fine  animal  to  paint  from,  but  most 
people  thought  not.  He  painted  it  day  after  day  in  the 
stableyard  at  Annat  Lodge,  and  had  made  a very  beautiful 
horse  when  Gambart,  the  dealer,  saw  the  picture,  and  offered 
^800  for  it,  but  said  the  horse  was  too  small.  Millais 
refused  this  price,  thinking  he  ought  to  get  more,  and 
Gambart  left.  After  a little  while  Millais  began  to  think 
the  horse  was  too  small,  and  most  unfortunately  took  it  out, 
and  finished  by  making  his  animal  too  large.  All  the  critics 
cried  out  about  the  huge  horse,  called  it  Roman- nosed,  and 
said  every  kind  of  absurd  thing  about  it,  forgetful  of  the 
beauty  of  the  rest  of  the  picture.  The  critics  would, 


perhaps,  not  have  been  so  ill-natured  had  they  known  the 
sufferings  the  horse  cost  the  painter,  who  worked  out  of 
doors  in  the  dead  of  winter,  sometimes  in  frost  and  snow, 
perched  on  a ladder,  and  sometimes  sitting  in  bitter  east  and 
north  wind  with  his  canvas  secured  by  ropes  to  prevent 
it  falling.  The  horse  was  never  still  for  one  instant,  and 
like  the  painter  was  greatly  aggravated  by  the  intense  cold. 
I had  to  send  down  warm  soups  and  wine  every  now  and 
then  and  attend  to  things  generally.  After  the  Academy 
closed  without  any  offer  being  made  for  the  picture,  Millais 
determined  to  have  it  back  to  Scotland,  and  once  more  to 
entirely  repaint  the  horse.  After  some  months  he  completed 
it.  The  same  animal  came  and  stood  day  after  day  in  our 
yard,  the  representation  of  the  old  one  having  been  com- 
pletely removed  from  the  canvas  by  means  of  benzole, 


3 1 o JOHN  EVERETT  MILLAIS  [.856 

the  smell  of  which  drove  us  out  of  the  painting-room  for 
a day  or  two.  The  new  horse  now  appeared,  to  my  mind, 
exactly  like  the  first  one.  It  was  almost  finished,  when  one 
day,  whilst  it  was  still  wet  in  places,  a strong  wind  arose 
and  blew  over  the  iron  chair  to  which  the  picture  had  been 
imperfectly  fixed,  one  corner  going  like  a nail  right  through 
the  head  of  the  knight.  This  was  a dreadful  accident,  and 
Millais  was  in  a terrible  state  of  mind,  vowing  he  would 
never  touch  or  look  at  it  again.  However,  in  the  course 
of  a day  or  two  a firm  of  London  canvas  makers  mended 


FIRST  SKETCH  FOR  “PEACE  CONCLUDED.”  1855 


it  so  beautifully  that  the  rent  could  not  be  seen.  I thought 
this  picture  doomed  to  failure,  for  on  the  day  it  left  us  to  go  to 
the  Liverpool  Exhibition,  it  poured  in  such  torrents  and  was 
so  stormy,  that  I became  superstitious.  However,  with  the 
new  horse  and  the  knight’s  leg  lengthened,  it  attracted  con- 
siderable attention  in  Liverpool,  and  the  committee  did  not 
know  whether  to  give  Millais  tire  prize  of  ^5°  f°r  it  or  for 
his  ‘ Blind  Girl.’  ‘The  Blind  Girl,’  however,  carried  the  day 
by  one  vote.” 

Colonel  Campbell,  an  officer  quartered  in  Perth,  sat  for 
the  figure  of  the  knight,  whilst  the  little  boy  and  girl  were 
respectively  the  artist’s  eldest  son  and  Miss  Nellie  Salmon, 
now  Mrs.  Ziegler. 


“SIR  ISUMBRAS” 


1857] 


3 1 1 


“ Time  and  varnish,”  I have  heard  my  father  say,  “ are 
the  greatest  Old  Masters  that  ever  lived.”  And,  in  the  face 
of  recent  experience,  who  will  dare  to  say  they  are  not?  As 
quaint  old  Tusser  has  it,  “Time  tries  the  troth  in  every- 
thing ” ; tries,  too,  our  Art  critics,  and  their  right  to  dogmatise 
as  they  do  on  works  that  Time  has  not  yet  touched  ; and  in 
this  matter  of  “ Sir  Isumbras  ” his  judgment  is  dead  against 
them. 

In  1 85 7,  when  the  picture  was  exhibited  in  the  Academy, 
it  was  greeted  with  howls  of 
execration,  the  lion’s  roar  of 
Mr.  Ruskin  being  heard  high 
above  the  jackal’s  yelp  of  his 
followers.  The  great  critic 
could  see  in  it  no  single  point 
for  admiration;  only  faults  of 
fact,  of  sentiment,  and  of  Art ; 
but  now  that  time  and  varnish 
have  done  their  work,  we  find 
it  as  universally  praised  as  it 
was  formerly  condemned — a 
lesson  that  living  painters  may 
well  take  to  heart  for  their 
comfort  in  times  of  depression. 

Mr.  Stephens,  who  has 
written  so  well  on  Millais’ 
works,  says  of  this  picture:  — 

“ ‘ Sir  Isumbras  at  the  Ford  ’ 
was  the  subject  of  the  picture 
Millais  made  his  leading  work 
in  the  year  1857.  It  represented 
an  ancient  knight,  all  clad  in 
golden  armour,  who  had  gone 
through  the  glories  of  this  life 
— war  honour,  victory  and  reward,  wealth  and  pride.  Though 
he  is  aged  and  worn  with  war,  his  eye  is  still  bright 
with  the  glory  of  human  life,  and  yet  he  has  stooped  his 
magnificent  pride  so  far  as  to  help,  true  knight  as  he  was, 
two  little  children,  and  carries  them  over  a river  ford  upon 
the  saddle  of  his  grand  war-horse,  woodcutter’s  children  as 
they  were.  The  face  of  this  warrior  was  one  of  those  pic- 
torial victories  which  can  derive  their  success  from  nothing 
less  than  inspiration.  The  sun  was  setting  beyond  the  forest 


SKETCH  FOR  “THE  CRUSADERS.”  1856 
A picture  never  completed 


312  JOHN  EVERETT  MILLAIS  [1857 

that  gathered  about  the  river’s  margin,  and,  in  its  glorious 
decadence,  symbolised  the  nearly  spent  life  of  the  warrior.” 

In  his  Notes  on  the  Grosvcuor  Gallery , 1885,  he  gives  a 
vivid  account  of  what  followed  on  the  exhibition  &of  the 
Picture  in  1S57.  “The  appearance  of  ‘Sir  Isumbras,’ ” he 
says,  “ produced  a tremendous  sensation.  Satires,  skits, 
jokes,  deliberate  analyses  and  criticisms — most  of  them 
applied  to  purposes  and  technical  aims  not  within  the  artist’s 
intention  when  the  picture  was  in  hand  — crowded  the 


FIRST  SKETCH  FOR  “SIR  ISUMBRAS” 


columns  of  the  comic  as  of  the  more  serious  journals.  Utter 
ruin  and  destruction  were  prophesied  of  the  artist  who,  some- 
what rashly,  had  followed  a technical  purpose,  but  whose 
success  in  that  respect  cannot  now  be  questioned.  Among 
the  most  edifying  of  the  comments  published  on  ‘Sir  Isum- 
bras ’ was  a large  print  entitled  ‘ A Nightmare,’  and  believed 
to  be  the  work  of  Mr.  F.  Sandys,  a distinguished  brother 
artist,  who  probably  was  not  without  grievances  of  his  own 
against  critics.  It  generally  reproduced  the  work  in  a ludi- 
crous manner,  and  showed  the  painter  while  in  the  act  of 
crossing  the  ford  on  the  back  of  a loud-braying  ass.  Seated 


“SIR  ISUMBRAS” 


3 1 3 


1857] 

on  the  front  of  the  saddle,  in  the  place  of  one  of  the  wood- 
cutter’s children,  Mr.  Dante  G.  Rossetti  is  supported  by  the 
mighty  hands  of  the  steel-clad  knight.  Clinging  round  the 
waist  of  the  champion  is  a quaint  mannikin,  with  a sheaf  of 
painter's  brushes  slung  at  his  back,  instead  of  the  original 
figure,  meant  for  Mr.  W.  Holman  Hunt.  The  intention  of 
the  designer  of  this  satire  was  to  suggest  the  position  of  the 
Old  Masters  and  the  modern  critics  at  this  period.  On  the 
bank  of  the  river  are  three  different  figures  of  M.  Angelo, 
Titian,  and  Raphael.  The  first  stands  with  his  face  averted 
and  his  arms  folded,  while  Titian  and  Raphael  kneel  in  front 
of  him,  looking  towards  the  animal  and  his  freight.  A small 
scroll  proceeds  from  the  animal’s  mouth,  with  the  legend, 
‘ Orate  pro  nobis.’  This  print  was  not  without  its  good 
technical  qualities,  and,  except  so  far  as  the  ass  and  the 
smallest  riders  were  concerned,  did  no  very  grave  injustice 
to  any  of  the  figures.  Instead  of  his  sheathed  sword  an 
artist’s  mahl-stick  was  suspended  to  the  girdle  of  Sir  John 
Millais,  and  by  the  side  of  this  hung  a bunch  of  peacock’s 
feathers  and  a large  paste-pot,  inscribed  ‘ P.-R.B.’  for  ‘ Pre- 
Raphaelite  Brotherhood.’  ” 

The  lines  relating  to  Sir  Isumbras,  which  appeared  in  the 
Academy  Catalogue  in  Old  English  type,  were  written  for  the 
occasion  by  Tom  Taylor,  who  also  wrote  the  extremely 
humorous  verses  attached  to  Mr.  Sandys’  skit.  The  former 
I give  here : — 

“ The  goode  hors  that  the  knyghte  bestrode, 

I trow  his  backe  it  was  full  brode, 

And  wighte  and  warie  still  he  wode, 

Noght  reckinge  of  rivere  : 

He  was  so  muckle  and  so  stronge, 

And  thereto  so  wonderlich  longe 
In  londe  was  none  his  peer. 

N’as  hors  but  by  him  seemed  smalle. 

The  knyghte  him  ycleped  Launcival ; 

But  lords  at  borde  and  grooms  in  stalle 
Yclept  him  Graund  Destrere.” 

About  the  sale  of  this  work  my  mother  had  a good  tale 
to  tell.  One  evening  in  1858,  when  they  were  living  in 
London,  she  was  standing  outside  the  house,  waiting  for  the 
door  to  be  opened,  when  she  was  accosted  by  a grey-haired 
man  in  shabby  garments,  who  said  he,  too,  wished  to  come 
in.  The  observation  startled  her,  for  she  had  never  seen 
the  man  before  ; and,  mistaking  him  in  the  darkness  for  a 


3 H JOHN  EVERETT  MILLAIS  [,857 

tramp,  she  told  him  to  go  away.  “But,”  pleaded  the 
stranger,  with  a merry  twinkle  in  his  eye,  “ I want  ‘ The 
Knight  Crossing  the  Ford,’  and  I must  have  it  ! ” The  idea 
now  dawned  upon  her  that  he  was  a harmless  lunatic,  to 
be  got  rid  of  by  a little  quiet  persuasion.  This,  therefore, 
she  tried,  but  in  vain.  The  only  reply  she  got  was,  ‘'Oh, 
beautiful  dragon ! I am  Charles  Reade,  who  wrote  Never 
Too  Late  to  Mend , and  I simply  must  have  that  picture, 
though  I am  but  a poor  man.  I would  write  a whole 
three-volume  novel  on  it,  and  then  have  sentiment  enough 
to  spare.  I only  wish  I had  someone  like  you  to  guard  my 
house  ! ” 

And  he  got  the  picture  ! For,  though  a stranger  to  my 
mother,  my  father  knew  him  well,  and  was  pleased  to  find 
on  his  return  home  that  it  had  fallen  into  his  hands.  Reade 
was,  in  fact,  an  intimate  friend  of  Millais,  and  when  in  town 
they  met  together  almost  daily  at  the  Garrick  Club. 

That  he  was  proud  of  his  purchase  the  following  letter  to 
Millais  attests : — 


From  Charles  Reade . 

“ Garrick  Club. 

“ II  Maestro,  — The  picture  is  come,  and  shall  be  hung 
in  the  drawing-room.  I cannot  pretend  to  point  out  exactly 
what  you  have  done  to  it,  but  this  I know  — it  looks  admir- 
ably well.  I hope  you  will  call  on  me  and  talk  it  over.  I am 
very  proud  to  possess  it.  Either  I am  an  idiot,  or  it  is  an 
immortal  work.  Yours  sincerely, 

“ Charles  Reade.” 

In  another  letter  he  says  : — “ It  is  the  only  picture  admitted 
into  the  room,  and  has  every  justice  I can  tender  it.  As 
I have  bought  to  keep , and  have  no  sordid  interest  in  crying 
it  up,  you  must  allow  me  to  write  it  up  a little.  It  is  in- 
famous that  a great  work  of  Art  should  be  libelled  as  this 
was  some  time  ago.” 

In  a letter  to  Millais,  asking  for  a ticket  for  the  “private 
view  ” day  at  the  Academy,  he  says : — “ The  private  view, 
early  in  the  morning,  before  I can  be  bored  with  cackle  of 
critics  and  entangled  in  the  tails  of  women,  is  one  of  the 
things  worth  living  for,  and  I shall  be  truly  grateful  if  you 
will  remember  your  kind  promise  and  secure  me  this 
pleasure.” 


“SIR  ISUMBRAS.”  1857 
By  permission  of  Mr,  R.  H . Benson 


“SIR  ISUMBRAS ’ 


3 1 7 


1857] 


On  Charles  Reade’s  death,  “ Sir  Isumbras  ” became  the 
property  of  Mr.  John  Graham,  and  on  his  death  Mr.  Robert 
Benson  bought  it  for  a large  sum. 

Touching  the  alterations  and  additions  it  received  in  1892, 
Mr.  Benson  kindly  sends  me  the  following  note:  — “As  to 
‘The  Knight’  I bought  it  at  Christie’s,  at  the  sale  of  the 
pictures  of  Mr.  John  Graham  of  Skelmorlie,  in  (I  think)  1S86. 
It  was  framed  in  an  abom- 
inable stucco  frame,  of 
about  1857,  with  rounded 
top  corners.  I had  a carved 
frame  made  from  one  of  the 
fine  models  in  the  South 
Kensington  Museum. 

“ I think  he  (Millais) 
was  glad  that  we  got  it, 
and  Lady  Millais  too.  One 
day  I asked  him  what  he 
thought  of  putting  some 
trappings  on  the  horse, 
and  he  jumped  at  the 
idea,  saying  that  he  should 
like  to  have  the  chance 
of  improving  the  outline 
— the  silhouette,  as  you 
may  still  see  it  in  Hollyer’s 
photo  — and  relieve  and 
break  the  blackness  of 
the  beast. 

“ Thenceforward  we 
went  about,  my  wife  and 
I,  taking  notes  and  studies 
of  horse-trappings  and 

armour  wherever  we  met  with  them.  Our  most  promising 
finds  were  in  the  Escurial,  in  the  armoury  at  Madrid.  One 
day  in  1892  (it  was  July  nth)  he  wrote  asking  us  to  let  him 
have  it,  and  to  send  him  our  notes.  There  was  to  be  an 
exhibition  at  the  Guildhall,  and  he  wanted  it  to  be  seen  again. 
So  I sent  it  with  the  notes  and  a photo,  on  which  I roughly 
pencilled  what  we  thought  it  needed,  viz.,  a fuller  throat,  a 
crest,  a dilated  nostril,  a twisted  tail,  a deeper  girth  (to  give 
the  horse  strength  to  carry  the  man  in  armour,  not  to  speak 
of  the  children),  a broad  bridle,  instead  of  the  thin  green 


MOTHER  AND  CHILD.  Circ.  i860 


3 1 8 JOHN  EVERETT  MILLAIS  [,s57 

and  yellow  rein,  and  lastly  the  trappings.  We  also  wanted 
the  green  and  yellow  bridle  abolished,  and  a certain  garish 
flower  by  the  horse’s  ear.  We  particularly  begged  him  to 
leave  the  exceptionally  large,  open  eyes  of  the  girl,  as  being 
characteristic  of  1857  and  of  the  effect  he  then  sought.  He 
kept  it  a month.  I confess  we  were  nervous,  knowing  the 
difficulty  he  was  sure  to  feel  in  matching  the  work  of  1857, 
and  feeling  our  own  audacity  in  having  ventured  to  suggest 

by  the  pencilling  on  the 
photo  just  what  we  wanted 
done  and  no  more.  I tried 
more  than  once  to  see  him, 
and  once  Mrs.  Holford 
came  with  me,  but  whether 
he  was  there  or  not,  we 
could  not  get  into  the 
studio.  But  on  August 
1 ith  the  picture  came  back 
finished. 

“ We  were  (and  are  still) 
delighted  with  what  he 
did.  He  just  removed  the 
blot,  and  the  picture  re- 
mained all  that  we  loved 
most  in  his  work  — a 
splendid  portrait  of  an 
old  man,  an  adorable  little  boy,  and  a glorious  landscape,  a 
strong  but  balanced  scheme  of  colour,  and  a composition 
which,  by  selecting  the  pictorial  moment,  tells  a simple  story 
— a romance  if  you  will  — that  makes  us  all  akin. 

“ Here  is  the  letter  he  wrote  me  (copy  enclosed) : — ” 

To  Mr.  Benson. 

“ 2 Palace  Gate,  Kensington, 

“ August  1 1 th,  1892. 

“ Dear  Benson,  — Send  for  the  Knight  on  Saturday 
morning,  as  I have  done  all  I can  for  the  picture,  and  very 
glad  I am  to  have  had  the  opportunity  of  making  it  so 
complete.  I have  seen  many  old  and  useful  drawings  at  the 
Heralds’  College,  where  they  have  the  whole  pageant  of  the 
Field  of  the  Cloth  of  Gold  meeting  of  Henry  VIII.  and 
Francis  I.,  and  some  of  the  harness  is  covered  with  bells, 


STUDY  OF  A CHILD.  Circ.  1858 


3 1 9 


1857]  “THE  ESCAPE  OF  A HERETIC” 

which  adds  a pleasant  suggestion  of  jingle  to  the  Knight’s 
progress.  I have  also  been  studying  horses  daily,  and  the 
stud  is  good  enough  now.  It  was  most  incorrect,  and  has 
necessitated  a great  deal  of  work. 

“ Faulty  as  it  undoubtedly  was,  the  poetry  in  tire  picture 
ought  to  have  saved  it  from  the  savage  onslaught  of  all  the 
critics,  notably  John  Ruskin,  who  wrote  of  it,  ‘This  is  not 
a fiasco,  but  a catastrophe.’ 

“On  the  other  hand,  Thackeray  embraced  me  — put  his 
arms  round  my  neck  and  said,  ‘ Never  mind,  my  boy,  go  on 
painting  more  such  pictures.’  ...  I am  very  proud  of 
having  painted  it,  and  delighted  to  know  it  is  in  the  hands 
of  one  who  appreciates  its  merits. 

“ Sincerely  yours, 

“ J.  E.  Millais.” 

As  a matter  of  fact  the  alterations  took  the  artist  a very 
short  time  to  complete,  when  he  had  once  decided  what  they 
should  be.  After  lunch  he  would  stroll  up  Kensington 
Gardens  to  the  “ Row,”  where  lie  leaned  over  the  rails, 
making  a few  notes  and  rough  outlines  of  horses  as  they 
passed  along,  until  he  got  the  particular  movement  of  the 
animal  that  he  wanted  to  express.  But,  as  will  be  gathered 
from  his  letter,  the  preliminary  work  involved  a good  deal 
of  trouble. 

In  the  spring  of  1857  Millais  and  his  wife  took  rooms  in 
Savile  Row,  London,  where  he  chiefly  occupied  himself  with 
his  picture  “The  Escape  of  a Heretic,  1559.”  Of  this  work, 
which  was  intended  as  a pendant  to  “ The  Huguenot,”  my 
mother  writes  : — 

I he  idea  of  making  a pendant  to  ‘ The  Huguenot  ’ 
occurred  to  him  whilst  we  were  visiting  Mr.  W.  Stirling 
at  Keir,  in  the  autumn  after  our  marriage.  That  gentleman 
possesses  a book  of  fine  old  woodcuts  of  the  time  of  the 
Inquisition,  when  persecutions  in  the  Netherlands  were 
earned  on  under  the  Duke  of  Alva.  He  also  possesses 
a seiies  of  Spanish  pictures  which  had  been  used  to  illus- 
trate lus  own  work  on  The  Cloister  Life  of  the  Emperor 
Charles  E Amongst  these  woodcuts  were  several  represent- 
mg  burnings  in  Spain,  the  women  and  men  being  habited  in 
tie  hideous  dress  of  the  ‘San  Benito.’  The  victims  were 
generally  attended  by  priests  exhorting  them  to  penitence 


320  JOHN  EVERETT  MILLAIS  [is57 

as  they  pursued  their  way  to  the  martyrs’ pile.  The  ‘San 
Benito’  dress  consists  of  an  upper  shirt,  without  sleeves, 
of  coarse  sacking  painted  yellow,  with  designs  of  devils 
roasting  souls  in  flames.  With  the  aid  of  some  engrav- 
ings  of  monks  of  the  different  orders,  sent  by  Mr.  Rawdon 
Brown,  and  the  habit  of  a Carthusian  from  the  Papal 
States,  lent  by  Mr.  Dickenson,  we  easily  made  up  the 
dresses  for  the  models,  whilst  Millais  drew  the  staircase  of 

Balhousie  Castle  for  the  prison 
from  whence  the  girl  is  escaping 
by  aid  of  her  lover.  Millais 
worked  on  this  picture  and 
‘ The  Knight  ’ at  the  same 
time.  The  expression  of  the 
lover’s  face  gave  him  immense 
trouble.  The  model  was  a 
young  gamekeeper  in  the  ser- 
vice of  Mr.  Condie.  He  was 
handsome,  very  lazy, continually 
getting  tired,  and  not  coming 
when  sent  for.  Millais  took 
the  face,  and  mouth  particularly, 
many  times  completely  out. 
The  girl's  expression  was  very 
troublesome  also,  and  he  was 
long  in  pleasing  himself  with  it.” 
Whilst  Millais  waited  the 
hanging  of  his  pictures  at  the 
Royal  Academy  his  wife  tra- 
velled again  to  their  home  in 
the  North.  His  letters  to  her 
at  this  time  are  particularly  interesting,  as  showing  what  he 
thought  of  the  artistic  outlook. 

In  the  first,  dated  May  13th,  1S57,  he  says: — “ My  friends 
Bartle  Frere  and  Colonel  Turner  dined  with  me  at  the 
Garrick  yesterday.  They  are  both  old  friends  of  mine,  and 
we  had  a very  pleasant  party.  I met  1 hackeray  there,  and 
he  spread  out  his  great  arms  and  embraced  me  in  stage 
fashion,  in  evidence  of  his  delight  at  my  pictures.  He  never 
before  expressed  such  extreme  satisfaction,  and  said  they 
were  magnificent.” 

The  Times  review  of  the  Royal  Academy  then  came  out 
with  a stinging  critique  on  his  pictures,  and  all  the  other 


SKIT  ON  “SIR  ISUMRRAS”  AND  THE 


1857] 


“APPLE  BLOSSOMS” 


323 


papers  joined  in  chorus.  On  this  he  wrote  to  his  wife,  on 
May  15th:  — “ Doubtless  you  have  seen  the  Times  and  its 
criticism.  When  I heard  it  was  written  in  the  same  spirit 
as  usual  I did  not  read  it.  I therefore  only  know  of  its 
import  through  my  friends.  The  general  feeling  is  that  it 
is  not  of  the  slightest  importance.  Criticism  has  been  so 
tampered  with  that  what  is  said  carries  little  or  no  weight. 
Ruskin,  I hear,  has  a prfmphlet  in  the  press  which  takes  a 
pitying  tone  at  my  failure.  The  wickedness  and  envy  at 
the  bottom  of  all  this  are  so  apparent  to  me  that  I disregard 
all  the  reviews  (I  have  not  read  one),  but  I shall  certainly 
have  this  kind  of  treatment  all  my  life.  The  public  crowd 
round  my  pictures  more  than  ever,  and  this,  I think,  must 

be  the  main  cause  of  animosity I should  tell  you 

that  although  my  friend  Tom  Taylor  is  said  to  have  written 
the  first  two  reviews  in  the  Times , this  last  is  not  attributed 
to  him. 

“ The  only  good  that  I can  see  in  the  criticism  is  its 
unusual  length  (from  what  I hear  it  is  nearly  a column).  I 
confess  I am  disgusted  at  the  tone  of  the  thing;  indeed 
with  everything  connected  with  Art. 

“Combe,  of  Oxford,  came  yesterday.  He  wants  me  to 
paint  him  a picture  about  the  size  of  the  ‘ Heretic’  {any- 
thing larger  than  that  size  is  objected  to).  There  is  no  en- 
couragement for  anything  but  cabinet  pictures.  I should 
never  have  a small  picture  on  my  hands  for  ten  minutes, 
which  is  a great  temptation  to  do  nothing  else.  I saw 
Tennyson  again  at  the  Prinseps’,  and  was  most  entertained  at 
the  ‘peeing’  that  went  on.  Miss  B.  [a  famous  beauty]  was 
there,  and  asked  after  you.  She  has  fallen  off,  but  is  still 
beautiful.” 

In  May,  1858,  they  went  as  usual  to  Bowerswell,  where  in 
due  time  the  artist  applied  himself  to  “Apple  Blossoms,”  or 
“Spring” as  it  was  latterly  called,  painting  it  in  neighbouring 
orchards. 

Here  I must  again  avail  myself  of  my  mother’s  notebook, 
and  her  remarks  on  “ Spring  Flowers,”  as  she  calls  it. 

“ I his  picture,  whatever  its  future  may  be,  I consider  the 
most  unfortunate  of  Millais’  pictures.  It  was  begun  at  Annat 
Lodge,  Perth,  in  the  autumn  of  1856,  and  took  nearly  four 
years  to  complete.  The  first  idea  was  to  be  a study  of  an 
apple  tree  in  full  blossom,  and  the  picture  was  begun  with 
a lady  sitting  under  the  tree,  whilst  a knight  in  the  back- 


324  JOHN  EVERETT  MILLAIS  [isss 

ground  looked  from  the  shade  at  her.  This  was  to  have 
been  named  ‘ Faint  Heart  Never  Won  Fair  Ladye.’  The 
idea  was,  however,  abandoned,  and  Millais,  in  the  following 
spring,  had  to  leave  the  tree  from  which  he  had  made  such 
a careful  painting,  because  the  tenant  at  Annat  Lodge  would 
not  let  him  return  to  paint,  for  she  said  if  he  came  to  paint 
in  the  garden  it  would  disturb  her  friends  walking  there. 
This  was  ridiculous,  but  Millais,  looking  about  for  some 
other  suitable  trees,  soon  found  them  in  the  orchard  of  our 
kind  neighbour  Mrs.  Seton  (Potterhill),  who  paid  him  the 
greatest  attention.  Every  day  she  sent  her  maid  with 
luncheon,  and  had  tablecloths  pinned  up  on  the  trees  so  as 
to  form  a tent  to  shade  him  from  the  sun,  and  he  painted 
there  in  great  comfort  for  three  weeks  whilst  the  blossoms 
lasted.  During  that  year  (1857)  he  began  to  draw  in  the 
figures,  and  the  next  year  he  changed  to  some  other  trees 
in  Mr.  Gentle’s  orchard,  next  door  to  our  home.  Here  he 
painted  in  quiet  comfort,  and  during  the  two  springs  finished 
all  the  background  and  some  of  the  figures.  The  centre 
figure  was  painted  from  Sir  Thomas  Moncrieff’s  daughter 
Georgiana  (afterwards  Lady  Dudley) ; Sophie  Gray,  my 
sister,  is  at  the  left  side  of  the  picture.  Alice  is  there  too, 
in  two  positions,  one  resting  on  her  elbow,  singularly  like, 
and  the  other  lying  on  her  back  with  a grass  stem  in  her 
mouth.  He  afterwards  made  an  etching  of  this  figure  for  the 
Etching  Club,  and  called  it  ‘A  Day  in  the  Country.’  When 
the  picture  of  ‘Spring  Flowers’  was  on  the  easel  out  of 
doors,  and  in  broad  sunlight,  the  bees  used  often  to  settle 
on  the  bunches  of  blossom,  thinking  them  real  flowers  from 
which  they  might  make  their  honey.” 

In  July,  1858,  my  mother  went  to  St.  Andrews,  in  Fife, 
and  to  her  Millais  wrote:  — 

“ I have  been  working  hard  all  day  ; have  finished  Alice  s 
top-knot,  and  had  that  little  humbug  Agnes  Stewart  again, 
but  I am  not  sure  with  what  success.  I had  capital  trips 
with  the  MacLarens  [neighbours  living  at  Kinfauns  Castle] 
to  Loch  Flukey  [Loch  Freuchie,  near  Amulree,  formerly  an 
excellent  trout  loch].  We  caught  eleven  dozen  trout,  and 
had  great  fun  about  settling  where  to  sleep.  I slept  on  the 
dining-room  table,  in  preference  to  a sofa,  as  the  horse-hair 
appeared  a likely  harbour  for  fleas,  etc.  A great  tub  was 
brought  in  for  the  morning  bath,  and  towels  about  the  size 
of  pocket-handkerchiefs,  so  I used  my  sheets  instead.  . . . 


APPLE  BLOSSOMS.”  1856-1859 
By  permission  0/  Mr.  Clarke 


<SS8] 


VISIT  TO  HIS  PARENTS 


327 


I was  up  at  five  in  the  Hielands,  and  fished  a beautiful 
little  river  (the  Braan)  before  breakfast.  I hope  you  will 
get  tremendously  strong.  All  that  salt  water  ought  to  do 
wonders.  Sophie  must  also  come  back  blooming,  to  be 
painted  in  my  picture.” 

On  the  envelope  of  this  letter  is  an  amusing  sketch,  show- 
ing some  lady  bathers  coming  out  of  the  sea,  and  men 
playing  golf  close  by. 

In  August  Millais  went  South  on  a visit  to  his  parents  at 
Kingston-on-Thames,  where  they  had  a charming  little  house 
overlooking  the  river.  He 
went  by  sea,  taking  with 
him  my  mother’s  two  young 
sisters,  Sophie  and  Alice, 
who  had  also  been  invited  ; 
and  in  the  following  letter 
he  sives  us  a little  insight 
into  the  home  life  of  the  old 
people:  — “ Here  we  are  in 
William’s  [his  brother’s] 
room.  The  girls  are  sitting 
with  me  in  perfect  cjuiet,  as 
they  are  still  very  unwell. 

Neither  of  them  could  eat 
any  breakfast,  and  every- 
thing is  whirling  about  them, 
as  it  is  with  me.  Otherwise 
I am  perfectly  comfortable, 
having  managed  my  cigar 
after  breakfast.  We  have 
just  been  listening  to  my  sister  [Emily  Millais,  Mrs.  Wallack] 
playing  on  the  piano  — ‘awfully  well,’  as  the  girls  say.  . . . 
My  father  has  most  gorgeous  peaches  and  nectarines  ripe 
against  the  wall,  and  much  finer  than  the  glass-house  ones  at 
Perth,  which  shows  the  climate  to  be  warmer. 

“ Now  to  tell  you  about  my  sister.  Although  I had  nearly 
forgotten  her,  I think  I would  have  known  her  again,  she  is 
so  like  William,  and  not  at  all  American,  as  I had  expected. 
She  is  still  pretty,  and  her  little  boy  is  here  — very  like  her, 
with  a good  profile,  and  very  excitable.  She  is  very  strong, 
though  not  so  to  look  at,  and  has  the  un-put-down-able  ‘go’ 
of  V illiam,  for  since  breakfast  she  has  played  to  me  more 
than  you  could  play  in  a month,  and  is  not  the  least  tired. 


SKETCH  FOR  "RUTH.”  Circ.  1855 


328  JOHN  EVERETT  MILLAIS  [1858 

. . . It  is  rather  a loss  William  not  being  here,  as  he  would 
complete  the  group  so  thoroughly. 

“ The  place  is  covered  with  pretty  flowers,  and  really  looks 
lovely.  My  father  has  just  come  down  and  shown  me  two 
most  beautiful  water-colour  drawings  of  William’s,  both  of 
which  are  sold,  and  I have  this  minute  come  from  looking 
after  Alice,  who  is  recovering  quickly.  She  is  in  the  arm- 
chair, and  my  father  is  playing  the  guitar  to  her.  I can’t 
tell  you  how  very  odd  it  seems  to  me,  being  amongst  them 
here  again.  There  is  certainly  a dash  of  the  French  about 
them  all,  for  they  are  all  so  extraordinarily  happy  and 
satisfied  with  themselves.” 

After  this  visit  he  went  off  shooting  and  fishing,  as  usual, 
for  a couple  of  months,  and  on  his  return  to  Bowerswell  he 
nearly  finished  the  “ Apple  Blossoms,”  and  commenced  (in 
October)  “ The  Vale  of  Rest.” 

Here  my  mother’s  note-book  again  proves  helpful  as  an 
illustration  of  his  life  and  work  at  this  period  ; interesting, 
too,  as  a reflection  of  her  own  views  on  the  only  subject  on 
which  they  were  at  variance.  As  a strict  Presbyterian  she 
greatly  disliked  his  working  on  Sundays,  as  he  often  did 
when  the  painting  fever  was  strong  upon  him ; and  her 
entries  on  this  subject  are  at  once  quaint  and  characteristic. 
She  writes  : — “ Mr.  Millais  exhibited  no  pictures  in  1858.  He 
began  a last  picture  of  a Crusader’s  return,  and  stuck,  after 
five  months’  hard  labour.  I was  much  averse  to  his  painting 
every  Sunday,  and  thought  no  good  would  come  of  it,  as  he 
took  no  rest,  and  hardly  proper  time  for  his  meals.  He 
made  no  progress,  only  getting  into  a greater  mess;  so  when 
spring  came  we  were  thankful  to  pack  up  the  picture  and  go 
to  Scotland.  Here  he  occupied  himself  on  his  ‘Spring’ 
apple  blossoms  picture,  but  did  not  set  vigorously  to  work 
till  the  autumn.  This  winter  [1858]  he  has  achieved  an 
immensity  of  work,  and  I attribute  his  success  greatly  to  his 
never  working  on  Sunday  all  this  year.  I will  describe  his 
pictures  of  this  year  in  order,  and  begin  with  the  Nuns  (‘  I he 
Vale  of  Rest’),  which,  like  all  his  best  works,  was  executed  in 
a surprisingly  short  space  of  time. 

“ It  had  long  been  Millais’  intention  to  paint  a picture  with 
nuns  in  it,  the  idea  first  occurring  to  him  on  our  wedding 
tour  in  1855.  On  descending  the  hill  by  Loch  Awe,  from 
Inverary,  he  was  extremely  struck  with  its  beauty,  and  the 
coachman  told  us  that  on  one  of  the  islands  there  were  the 


“THE  VALE  OF  REST” 


329 


1858] 

ruins  of  a monastery.  We  imagined  to  ourselves  the  beauty 
of  the  picturesque  features  of  the  Roman  Catholic  religion, 
and  transported  ourselves,  in  idea,  back  to  the  times  before 
the  Reformation  had  torn  down,  with  bigoted  zeal,  all  that 
was  beautiful  from  antiquity,  or  sacred  from  the  piety  or 
remorse  of  the  founders  of  old  ecclesiastical  buildings  in 
this  country.  The  abbots  boated  and  fished  in  the  loch,  the 
vesper  bell  pealed  forth  the  ‘ Ave  Maria ' at  sundown,  and 
the  organ  notes  of  the  Virgin’s  hymn  were  carried  by  the 
water  and  transformed  into  a sweeter  melody,  caught  up  on 
the  hillside  and  dying  away  in  the  blue  air.  We  pictured, 
too,  white-robed  nuns  in  boats,  singing  on  the  water  in  the 
quiet  summer  evenings,  and  chanting  holy  songs,  inspired  by 
the  loveliness  of  the  world  around  them.  . . . 

“ Millais  said  he  was  determined  to  paint  nuns  some  day, 
and  one  night  this  autumn,  being  greatly  impressed  with  the 
beauty  of  the  sunset  (it  was  the  end  of  October)  he  rushed 
for  a large  canvas,  and  began  at  once  upon  it,  taking  for 
background  the  wall  of  our  garden  at  Bowerswell,  with  the 
tall  oaks  and  poplar  trees  behind  it.  The  sunsets  were 
lovely  for  two  or  three  nights,  and  he  dashed  the  work  in, 
softening  it  afterwards  in  the  house,  making  it,  I thought, 
even  less  purple  and  gold  than  when  he  saw  it  in  the  sky. 
Tire  effect  lasted  so  short  a time  that  he  had  to  paint  like 
lightning. 

“It  was  about  the  end  of  October,  and  he  got  on  very 
rapidly  with  the  trees  and  worked  every  afternoon,  patiently 
and  faithfully,  at  the  poplar  and  oak  trees  of  the  background 
until  November,  when  the  leaves  had  nearly  all  fallen.  He 
was  seated  very  conveniently  for  his  work  just  outside  our 
front  door,  and,  indeed,  the  principal  part  of  the  picture, 
excepting  where  the  tombstones  come,  is  taken  from  the 
terrace  and  shrubs  at  Bowerswell.” 

The  background  of  “The  Vale  of  Rest”  remains  very 
much  to-day  what  it  was  when  Millais  painted  it.  A few 
of  the  old  trees  are  gone ; but  there  are  the  same  green 
terraces,  and  the  same  sombre  hedges;  there,  too,  is  the 
corner  of  the  house  which,  under  the  artist’s  hands,  appeared 
as  an  ivy-covered  chapel.  The  grave  itself  he  painted  from 
one  freshly  made,  in  Kinnoull  churchyard  ; and  much  amused 
he  was  by  the  impression  he  made  while  working  there. 
Close  by  lived  two  queer  old  bachelors,  who,  in  Perth,  went 
by  the  names  of  “Sin  and  Misery.”  They  watched  him 


330  JOHN  EVERETT  MILLAIS  [1858 

intently  as  he  painted  away  day  by  day  amongst  the  tombs 
without  even  stopping  for  refreshment,  and  after  the  first  day 
they  came  to  the  conclusion  that  he  made  his  living  by 
portraying  the  graves  of  deceased  persons.  So  they  good- 
naturedly  brought  him  a glass  of  wine  and  cake  every  day, 
and  said  what  they  could  by  way  of  consolation  for  the  hard- 
ships of  his  lot. 

The  rest  of  the  tale  is  thus  told  by  my  mother:  — “The 
graveyard  portion  was  painted  some  months  later,  in  the  very 
cold  weather,  and  the  wind  often  threatened  to  knock  the 


SKETCH  FOR  ILLUSTRATION.  1858 


frame  over.  The  sexton  kept  him  company,  made  a grave 
for  him,  and  then,  for  comfort’s  sake,  kept  a good  fire  in  the 
dead-house.  There  Millais  smoked  his  pipe,  ate  his  lunch, 
and  warmed  himself.” 

It  is  always  interesting  to  hear  from  artists  who  have 
painted  a successful  picture,  how  and  under  what  circum- 
stances it  was  done.  One  man  will  tell  you  that  his  work 
was  the  inspiration  of  a moment,  and  the  whole  thing  was 
dashed  off  in  a few  days,  maybe  a few  hours — as  was  Land- 
seer’s “ Sleeping  Bloodhound.”  Another  has,  perhaps,  spent 
months  or  years  on  some  great  work;  it  has  been  painted, 
repainted,  altered  a hundred  times,  and  then  not  satisfied  the 
painter.  Again,  an  unsatisfactory  pose  of  a figure  has  often 


“THE  VALE  OE  REST” 


185s] 


33 1 


driven  a conscientious  artist  to  the  verge  of  insanity.  And 
this  was  the  case  with  the  figure  of  the  woman  digging 


in  “The  Vale  of  Rest.” 
never  had  such  a time  in 
painting  that  woman. 

Everything  was  perfect 
in  the  picture  except  this 
wretched  female,  and  no- 
thing would  induce  her  to 
go  right.  Every  day  for 
seven  weeks  he  painted  and 
repainted  her,  with  the  re- 
sult that  the  figure  was 
worse  than  ever,  and  he 
was  almost  distracted. 

My  mother  then  pro- 
ceeded to  hatch  a plot  with 
my  grandmother  to  steal 
the  picture ! This  was 
skilfully  effected  one  day 
when  he  had  left  his  work 
for  a few  hours.  The  two 
arch-plotters  took  it  be- 
tween them  and  carried  it 
into  a wine-cellar,  where  it 
was  securely  locked  up. 

When  the  painter  re- 
turned to  work  and  found 
his  treasure  gone  he  was, 
of  course,  in  a dreadful  state 
of  mind,  and  on  discovering 
the  trick  that  had  been 
played  him,  he  tried  every 
means  to  make  them  give 


I have  heard  my  mother  say  she 
her  life  as  when  my  father  was 


it  up  to  him,  but  this  they  „ _ 

steadfastly  refused  to  do.  sketch  for  illustration.  1859 
Here  then  was  a predica- 
ment ! For  some  days  he  would  settle  to  nothing,  and  the 
model,  who  received  good  payment,  would  insist  on  coming 
every  day  and  sitting  in  the  kitchen,  saying  that  she  was 
engaged  till  the  picture  was  finished.  The  situation  at  last 
became  comic  — Millais  furious,  the  conspirators  placid, 
smiling,  but  firm,  and  the  model  immovable. 


332  JOHN  EVERETT  MILLAIS  [is5s 

At  last  he  was  persuaded  to  set  to  work  on  some  water- 
colour replicas  of  “ The  Huguenot  ” and  “The  Heretic,”  for 
Mr.  Gambart,  and  as  he  became  interested  in  them  he 
gradually  calmed  down.  When  the  picture  was  eventually 
returned  to  him,  he  saw  at  a glance  where  his  mistake  lay, 
and  in  a few  hours  put  everything  right. 

My  uncle  William  tells  an  amusing  story  about  this, 
which  is  worth  repeating  in  his  own  words:  — “Millais,  as 
everyone  knows,  had  the  greatest  power  in  the  realistic 
rendering  of  all  objects  that  came  under  his  brush,  and  the 
veriest  tyro  could  not  fail  to  recognise  at  a glance  the  things 
that  he  painted.  I remember,  however,  a case  in  which  the 
power  was  not  recognised  ; in  fact,  the  objects  painted  failed 
to  convey  the  faintest  notion  of  what  they  were  intended  to 
represent.  An  old  Scotchman,  after  looking  at  ‘ The  Vale 
of  Rest  ’ for  some  time,  said  to  my  brother  in  my  hearing, 
‘Well,  the  picture’s  all  well  enough,  but  there’s  something 
I don't  like.’  My  brother,  who  was  always  ready  to  listen  to 
any  criticism,  said,  ‘ What  don’t  you  like  ? Speak  out,  don’t 
be  afraid ! ’ 

“‘Well,’  said  he,  ‘I  don't  like  the  idea  of  water  in  a 
grave.’  ‘ Water  in  a grave  ? ’ said  my  brother.  ‘ Well,  there 
it  is,  plain  enough  ’ (pointing  to  a mattock),  ‘ pouring  into 
the  grave.’  He  had  actually  mistaken  the  sheen  of  a steel 
mattock  for  a jet  of  water,  and  the  handle  for  a bridge  across 
the  grave.  This  was  too  good  a story  not  to  be  passed 
round,  and  it  was  told  on  the  occasion  of  the  picture  being 
privately  exhibited  at  the  Langham  Chambers,  just  before 
being  sent  to  the  Royal  Academy.  There  was  a good 
assemblage  of  people,  and  amongst  them,  though  unrecog- 
nised, the  old  gentleman  himself.  The  story  was  told  with 
great  gusto  by  John  Leech  (in  my  presence),  and  a roar  of 
laughter  followed,  coupled  with  the  words,  ‘What  an  old  ass 
he  must  have  been  ! ’ Whereupon  the  old  gentleman  sprang 
up  from  the  sofa  and  said,  ‘ I ’m  the  verra  man  mysel’.’  It 
was  honest  of  him,  to  say  the  least.” 

Mr.  M.  H.  Spielmann,  who  has  carefully  studied  Millais’ 
works,  says  of  it : — “ This  picture  I have  always  felt  to  be  one 
of  the  greatest  and  most  impressive  ever  painted  in  England  ; 
one  in  which  the  sentiment  is  not  mawkish,  nor  the  tragedy 
melodramatic  — a picture  to  look  at  with  hushed  voice  and 
bowed  head;  in  which  the  execution  is  not  overwhelmed  by 
the  story;  in  which  the  story  is  emphasised  by  the  com- 


“THOSE  TERRIBLE  NUNS” 


1858] 


333 


position  ; and  in  which  the  composition  is  worthy  of  the 
handling.” 

“This  is  the  year  Mr.  Millais  gave  forth  those  terrible 
nuns  in  the  graveyard  ” : thus  Mr.  Punch  characterised  the 
year  1859.*  Even  Ruskin,  denouncing  the  methods,  and 
admitting  (unjustly)  the  ugliness  and  “ frightfulness  ” of  the 
figures,  was  constrained  to  allow  it  nobility  of  horror,  if 
horror  it  was,  and  the  greatness  of  the  touching  sentiment. 
His  charge  of  crudeness  in  the  painting  no  longer  holds 
good,  Time  — that  grand  Old  Master  to  which  Millais  did 
homage  in  act  and  word  — has  done  the  work  the  artist 
intended  him  to  do;  and  I venture  to  think  that  in  the  New 
Gallery  of  British  Art  there  will  be  no  more  impressive,  no 
more  powerful  work  than  that  which  shocked  the  Art  world 
of  1859. 

In  1862  Millais  saw  how  he  could  improve  the  face  of  the 
nun  that  is  seated  at  the  head  of  the  grave,  so  he  had  the 
picture  in  his  studio  for  a week,  and  repainted  the  head  from 
a M iss  Lane. 

During  1858  was  also  painted  “ The  Love  of  James  the 
First  of  Scotland."  It  will  be  remembered  that  this  un- 
fortunate monarch  was  confined  for  many  years  in  Windsor 
Castle.  In  the  garden  below  his  prison  used  to  walk  the 
beautiful  Lady  Jane  Beaufort,  and  he  fell  in  love  with  her; 
but  his  only  means  of  communicating  with  her  was  by 
dropping  letters  through  the  bars  of  the  grated  window. 
This  is  the  scene  represented  in  the  picture.  The  castle 
and  wall  were  taken  from  the  picturesque  old  ruin  of  Bal- 
housie  Castle,  which  overlooks  the  North  Inch  of  Perth.  On 
p.  361  is  given  a photo  of  the  exact  wall,  with  the  model  s hand 
dropping  a love-letter  from  the  window.  Millais’  model 
for  this  picture  was  Miss  Eyre,  of  Kingston,  whose  sister, 
Miss  Mary  Eyre,  he  also  painted  the  following  year  as  “ The 
Bride”  — a girl  with  passion  flowers  in  her  hair,  f 

While  the  work  was  in  hand,  an  old  woman  came  for  three 
days,  and  stood  staring  alternately  at  the  artist  and  the 
castle,  evidently  without  any  notion  of  what  he  was  about. 
Disliking  the  presence  of  observers  while  he  was  at  work,  he 
looked  up  suddenly  and  exclaimed,  “ Well,  what  are  you 


* The  Times  was  this  year  favourable,  and  acknowledged  “ The  Vale  of  Rest  ” 
as  a work  of  merit. 

f This  lady  was  singularly  like  the  Countess  de  Grey,  and  on  this  account  the 
portrait  was  purchased  at  a sale  by  Lord  de  Grey. 


334  JOHN  EVERETT  MILLAIS  [i85s 

looking  at?”  To  which  she  replied,  “ Weel  — that’s  juist 
what  a was  gaein  tae  ask  ye.  What  are  you  glowerin  at  ? 
Cetera  desunt. 

To  the  uninitiated  I may  explain  that,  in  the  Scotch  tongue, 
“glowerin  ” means  staring  rudely  and  intently.  . 

At  this  time  (November,  1859),  though  work  went  on 
briskly,  began  a long  period  of  anxiety  on  account  of  my 
mother’s  health,  ensuing  on  the  birth  of  her  eldest  daughter. 
She  had  imprudently  gone,  one  cold  winter’s  day,  to  Murthly,. 
to  make  a drawing  of  some  tapestry  in  the  old  castle,  for  one 
of  my  father’s  pictures  ; and,  sitting  long  at  her  task,  she 
contracted  a chill,  which  affected  the  optic  nerves  of  both 
her  eyes.  A temporary  remedy  was  found,  but  in  late  years 
the  mischief  again  reappeared,  to  the  permanent  detriment 
of  her  eyesight. 


SOPHIA  GRAY.”  1853 


CHAPTER  IX 


The  struggle  of  1S59  — Millais  seriously  feels  the  attacks  made  upon  him,  but 
determines  to  fight— Insulted  at  every  turn  — Origin  of  “The  Valeof  Rest’’  — 
The  fight  for  independence  — “ The  Black  Brunswicker  ” — Millais  describes  it  — 
Dickens’  daughter  sits  for  the  lady  — Mrs.  Perugini  describes  her  sittings  — 
Faint  praise  from  the  Press — Great  success  of  the  picture  — Holman  Hunt 
likewise  successful  — Millais’  black-and-white  work  — Letters  to  his  wife  — Lady 
Waterford. 

WE  come  now  to  the  turning-point  in  the  life  of  the 
painter  — to  the  period  when,  with  the  exception  of 
a few  strong  men  of  independent  judgment,  all  the  powers 
of  the  Art  world  were  set  in  array  against  him  — the  critics, 
the  Academy,  and  the  Press  — and,  under  their  combined 
influence,  even  the  picture-dealers  began  to  look  askance 
at  his  works  as  things  of  doubtful  merit.  Buyers,  too,  held 
aloof,  not  daring  to  trust  their  own  judgment  in  opposition  to 
so  great  an  authority  as  Mr.  Ruskin  ; for  by  this  time  Ruskin 
had  attained  a position  in  the  land  absolutely  unapproached 
by  any  other  critic  before  or  since.  With  a charm  of  diction 
unequalled  in  English  prose,  he  had  formulated  certain 
theories  of  his  own  which  every  artist  must  accept  or  reject 
under  peril  of  his  severest  condemnation ; and  as  “ Sir 
Isumbras  ” — the  last  of  Millais’  works  that  may  be  termed 
purely  Pre-Raphaelite  — was  found  to  sin  against  these  re- 
quirements, it  fell  under  his  ban  as  utterly  unworthy  of  the 
applause  it  had  gained  from  the  public. 

It  has  been  well  said  that  “ the  eye  of  a critic  is  often  like 
a microscope,  made  so  very  fine  and  nice  that  it  discovers 
the  atoms,  grains,  and  minutest  particles  without  ever  com- 
prehending the  whole,  comparing  the  parts,  or  seeing  all 
at  once  the  harmony.”  And,  as  will  presently  be  seen,  that 
was,  in  Millais’  view  at  least,  the  affliction  from  which 
Mr.  Ruskin  was  suffering  at  this  time. 

It  is  not  given  to  every  man  to  withstand  such  a for- 
midable attack  as  that  to  which  my  father  was  now  exposed. 
Prom  the  financial  point  of  view  the  situation  was  critical 

335 


336  JOHN  EVERETT  MILLAIS  [isS9 

in  the  extreme.  Ruin  stared  him  in  the  face  — ruin  to  him- 
self, his  wife,  and  family.  One  cannot  therefore  wonder 
that,  under  the  strain  and  peril  of  the  time,  his  letters 
betray  not  only  his  amazement  at  the  crass  stupidity  of  some 
of  his  critics,  but  his  deep  sense  of  injury,  and  a rooted 
belief  that  envy,  hatred,  and  malice  were  at  the  bottom  of 
all  this  uproar. 

All  this,  together  with  a record  of  his  doings  during  the 
months  of  April  and  May,  1S59,  will  be  found  in  the  follow- 
ing extracts  from  his  letters,  in  reading  which  it  must  be 
borne  in  mind  that  these  letters  were  intended  only  for  the 
eye  of  his  wife,  for  whose  comfort  at  this  trying  time  he 
would  naturally  and  rightly  open  his  mind  without  any 
thought  of  egotism  or  empty  boast. 

The  letters  are  dated  from  his  father’s  house  at  Kingston, 
to  which  in  joyous  anticipation  of  success  at  the  coming 
Royal  Academy  Exhibition  he  betook  himself  with  his 
pictures  early  in  April. 

“ South  Cottage , 7 tli  April. — There  are  three  or  four 
people  after  my  pictures,  and  I have  no  doubt  of  making 
more  than  I expected  by  them.  William  will  write  to  you 
about  what  was  said,  but  I will  simply  tell  you  in  a word 
that  nothing  could  possibly  be  more  successful,  ‘ The  Nuns’ 
especially.  I have  called  it 

‘ The  Vale  of  Rest, 

Where  the  weary  find  repose  — 

front  one  of  Mendelssohn’s  most  lovely  part-songs.  I heard 
William  singing  it,  and  said  it  just  went  with  the  picture, 
whereupon  he  mentioned  the  name  and  words,  which  are 
ecpially  suitable.  Marochetti  said  to  William,  before  a 
number  of  people,  that  ‘The  Nuns’  should  have  a place 
in  the  national  collection,  between  Raphael  and  Titian  ; and 
Thackeray  and  Watts  expressed  nearly  the  same  opinion. 
Indeed,  the  praise  is  quite  overwhelming,  and  I keep  out 
of  it  as  much  as  possible,  as  I am  not  able  to  bear  it,  I feel 
so  weakened  by  it  all.  While  William  was  showing  the  two 
large  pictures,  I was  painting  away  at  the  single  figure, 
which  I finished  perfectly,  having  worked  at  it  from  five 
in  the  morning.  I felt  quite  inspired,  and  never  made  a 
mistake.  It  is,  I think,  the  most  beautiful  of  all. 

“ Nothing  could  exceed  the  kindness  of  my  people  about 
me,  and  only  through  their  indefatigable  assistance  could 


“THE  BRIDE.”  Circ.  1858 
By  permission  of  Mr.  A . D.  Grimmond 


e'1  ' 


. '' 


\ 


LETTERS  TO  HIS  WIFE 


1859J 


339 


I have  finished  the  third.  All  were  framed  and  sent  in  to 
the  Royal  Academy  in  good  time.” 

The  three  pictures  were  “ The  Vale  of  Rest,”  “ The 
Love  of  James  I.  of  Scotland,”  and  “Apple  Blossoms.” 
They  had  been  seen  and  praised  by  hundreds  of  people 
before  they  were  exhibited  to  the  public,  and  the  artist 
knew  they  were  the  best  he  had  ever  painted ; but  no 
sooner  did  they  appear  on  the  Academy  walls  than  they 
were  attacked  as  already  in- 
dicated, the  admiration  of  the 
public  who  persistently  crowded 
in  front  of  them,  and  his  own 
knowledge  of  their  value,  being 
the  only  consolation  he  could 
lay  to  heart.  His  next  letter 
betrays  the  revulsion  of  feeling 
caused  by  this  cruel,  not  to  say 
malignant,  attack. 

“ April  10 th. — In  the  midst 
of  success  I am  dreadfully  low- 
spirited,  and  the  profession  is 
more  hideous  than  ever  in  my 
eyes.  Nobody  seems  to  under- 
stand really  good  work,  and 
even  the  best  judges  surprise 
me  with  their  extraordinary 
remarks.  . . . Nothing  can  be 
more  irritating  and  perplexing 
than  the  present  state  of  things.  Sketch  for  ..The  Black  Brunswicker.,-  lg6o 
There  seems  to  be  a total  want 

of  confidence  in  the  merits  of  the  pictures,  amongst  even 
the  dealers.  They  seem  quite  bewildered.  Even  John 
Phillip  said  that  he  thought  it  was  high  time  I should  come 
and  live  in  London.  As  if  that  had  anything  to  do  with 
my  Art! 

“ I would  write  oftener  to  you,  but  really  I have  nothing 
either  pleasant  or  satisfactory  to  write  about.  I am  far  from 
well,  and  everybody  says  they  never  saw  such  a change  in 
any  man  for  the  worse.  I could  scarcely  be  quieter,  too, 
as  I never  stay  in  town  or  have  any  wish  to  be  amongst 
riotous  fellows  ; yet  the  reaction  of  leaving  off  work  is  very 
trying.” 

“April  \^th,  1859.  — There  seems  to  be  but  one  opinion 


340  JOHN  EVERETT  MILLAIS  [1859 

amongst  unprejudiced  people  as  to  the  success  of  my  pictures 
this  year,  but  ^iooo  for  a picture  is  a very  rare  thing.  It  is 
true  that  that  sum  has  been  given  already  this  year  for  a 

picture  by  O ; but  you  must  remember  that  my  pictures 

are  not  vulgar  enough  for  the  City  merchants',  who  seem 
to  be  the  only  men  who  give  these  great  prices.  ...  I am 
much  better  after  yesterday’s  headache,  and  got  up  this 
morning  early,  and  have  been  reading  and  playing  chess  with 
my  mother  ever  since.  ...  It  is  a fine  day,  so  I shall 
go  and  see  the  University  Boat  Race.  Yesterday  I met  in 
the  Burlington  Arcade  an  old  friend  from  India,  the  brother 
of  our  old  friend  Grant  who  died.  (I  drew  him  in  pen-and- 
ink,  dying,  surrounded  by  his  family.)  The  brother  has 
grown  into  an  enormous  man,  with  moustaches  nearly  half 
a yard  broad  — a very  handsome  fellow.” 

“ April  18///,  1859. — Hunt  and  Collins  dined  here  yester- 
day. The  pain  in  my  chest  is  nearly  gone,  so  I am  no 
longer  uneasy.  It  must  have  been  from  working  too  hard 
and  leaning  forward  so  much,  but  I hope  to  begin  my  work 
again  this  week.  . . . Ruskin  was  talking  to  young  Prinsep, 
and  said  he  had  been  looking  at  the  ‘ Mariana,’  which  I 
painted  years  ago,  and  had  come  to  the  sage  conclusion 
that  I had  gone  to  the  dogs  and  am  hopelessly  fallen.  So 
there  is  no  doubt  of  what  view  he  will  take  of  my  works 
tins  year;  but  (as  Hunt,  who  has  a high  opinion  of  their 
excellence,  says)  if  he  abuses  them  he  will  ruin  himself  as 
a critic.  Already  he  is  almost  entirely  disregarded.  I hear 
that  Leighton  has  a picture  in  the  Royal  Academy,  but 
nothing  of  its  worth.  This  picture,  whether  good  or  bad, 
will  be  set  up  against  mine.  The  enmity  is  almost  over- 
whelming, and  nothing  but  the  public  good  sense  will  carry  me 
through.  ...  I am  sanguine,  in  spite  of  every  drawback, 
though  I know  there  is  a possibility  of  my  not  realising  my 
anticipations  regarding  the  sale  of  the  pictures ; but  in  that 
case  I am  perfectly  prepared  to  keep  them.  They  must  not, 
and  shall  not,  be  thrown  away.” 

“ April  19 th.  — William  was  singing  at  his  Hanover  Square 
Rooms  last  night,  but  I could  not  be  there.  He  seems  to 
have  made  a real  success,  as  he  always  does  in  public.  I am 
wonderfully  well  and  have  quite  recovered  my  spirits,  and 
am  now  prepared  to  act  determinedly.  No  persuasion  will 
now  induce  me  to  sacrifice  my  work.  You  see,  by  putting 
a very  high  price  on  it,  the  dealers  are  entirely  shut  out, 


1859] 


LETTERS  TO  HIS  WIFE 


34  r 


and  thereby  become  my  most  inveterate  enemies,  which  is 
no  joke  considering  the  powerful  influence  they  have.  They, 
added  to  the  Royal  Academy,  which  is  always  against  me, 
make  the  army  a difficult  one  to  combat.  When  I sold  my 
works  to  the  dealers  they  were  my  friends,  and  counteracted 
this  artistic  detraction.  There  is,  without  doubt,  an  immense 
amount  of  underhand  work,  and  I can  scarcely  regard  a 
single  professional  man  as  my  friend.  I am  quite  settled, 
however,  in  my  position,  to  stand 
a violent  siege.” 

“ April  2 $rd.  — The  day  after 
to-morrow  I shall  attend  the  Ex- 
hibition [at  the  Royal  Academy] 
privately  with  the  members.  I 
am  prepared  for  some  disappoint- 
ment; it  always  happens. 

“ To-night  at  12  all  the  parish 
children  sing  through  the  village, 
headed  by  the  parson,  my  father, 

William,  Arthur  Coleridge,  and 
others.  Leslie  (the  choir-man) 
is  here,  staying  with  Coleridge  ; 
he  played  delightfully  this  morn- 
ing in  the  studio.  I am  sure,  dear, 
you  would  be  charmed  with  the 
society  here ; the  people  seem  to 
appreciate  the  family  very  much, 

L , ,,  . . ...  Sketch  for  “The  Black  Brunswtcker  ” 

and  are  endless  in  their  kind-  lS6o 

nesses,  sending  things  to  my 

mother  [she  was  very  ill  at  this  time]  and  inquiring  daily 
after  her  health.  William,  too,  is  surrounded  by  pretty  girls.” 
After  his  visit  to  the  Royal  Academy  to  see  how  his 
pictures  were  hung,  he  writes:  — 

“ April  26 t/i. — It  is  always  a melancholy  thing  to  the 
painter  to  see  his  work  for  the  first  time  in  an  empty  room  ; 
and  yesterday  was  a most  dreadful,  dark,  rainy  day.  Every- 
thing looked  dismal.  The  single  figure  is  not  well  hung, 
although  perfectly  seen.  All  three,  of  course,  lose  in  my 
eyes,  for  they  are  surrounded  by  such  a perplexity  of  staring- 
colour  ; for  instance,  an  officer  in  size  of  life,  in  a brilliant 
red  coat,  is  hung  next  to  1 The  Nuns,’  which  must  naturally 
hurt  it.  ‘The  Orchard’  [‘Apple  Blossoms’],  I think,  looks 
better.  There  are  no  less  than  three  pictures  of  orchard 


342  JOHN  EVERETT  MILLAIS  [1859 

blossoms,  but  small,  as  the  artist  had  no  time  to  enlarge 
them.  Hook’s  are  very  fine  indeed,  small,  but  lovely  in 
colour  — quite  as  good  as  my  own.  He  is  about  the  only 
first-rate  man  they  have.  Boxall  has  some  beautifiil  portraits 
— one  of  an  old  man  especially  so.  Stansfield  and  Roberts 
as  usual.  Landseer,  of  course,  good ; but,  between  our- 
selves, not  quite  so  much  so  as  of  yore.  He  was  most 
kind,  and  said  he  understood  the  quality  of  my  work  en- 
tirely ; and  when  I told  him  they  were  unsold,  he  laughed 
and  said,  ‘ Oh,  you  need  not  mind  about  that.  I would 
sell  them  fast  enough.’  Frank  Grant,  too,  was  most  cordial, 
and  asked  after  you.  He  and  Landseer  went  backwards 
and  forwards  many  times  between  ‘ The  Orchard  ’ and  ‘ The 
Nuns.’  I am  told  by  all  the  Hanging  Committee  that  they 
have  come  to  the  conclusion  that  ‘ The  Vale  of  Rest’  would 
have  been  perfect  had  I left  the  digging  nun  alone,  and  that 
‘ The  Orchard  ’ is  spoilt  by  Sophie’s  and  Alice’s  heads  to  the 
left  of  the  picture.” 

“ April  28 th. — I got  home  here  [at  Kingston]  last  night 
after  a hard  day’s  rubbing  at  the  pictures,  which  improved 
them  immensely.  I see  things  are  creeping  favourably  on. 
Landseer  this  year  is  a most  energetic  admirer;  he  said 
yesterday,  before  many  of  the  members,  that  my  pictures  are 
far  beyond  everything  I have  ever  done.  Roberts,  too,  said  I 
am  sure  to  sell  them  at  the  private  view.  I have  a few  truly 
good  friends  in  the  Royal  Academy,  amongst  the  best  men , 
in  spite  of  the  wicked  clique  who,  of  course,  do  their  best  to 
run  me  down.  There  is  no  great  ‘ catch  ’ this  year,  except 

perhaps  O ’s  companion  picture  to  his  last  year’s  one.  It  is 

very  good  (well  painted),  but  egregiously  vulgar  and  common- 
place ; but  there  is  enough  in  it  of  a certain  ‘jingo’  style 
to  make  it  a favourite.  This  work  may  at  first  attract,  but 
after  a while  it  will  not  stand  with  the  public. 

“ Ruskin  will  be  disgusted  this  year,  for  all  the  rubbish 
he  has  been  praising  before  being  sent  into  the  Royal  Academy 
has  now  bad  places.  There  is  a wretched  work  like  a photo- 
graph of  some  place  in  Switzerland,  evidently  painted  under 
his  guidance,  for  he  seems  to  have  lauded  it  up  sky-high  ; 
and  that  is  just  where  it  is  in  the  miniature  room  ! He  does 
not  understand  my  work,  which  is  now  too  broad  for  him 
to  appreciate,  and  I think  his  eye  is  only  fit  to  judge  the 
portraits  of  insects.  But  then,  I think  he  has  lost  all  real 
influence  as  a critic. 


LETTERS  TO  HIS  WIFE 


343 


1859] 

“ To-morrow  is  the  private  view.  I have  given  my 
tickets  to  John  Meech  and  his  wife.  He  knows  all  the 
Press  men,  and  is  respected  by  all,  so  his  opinion  will  be  taken 
and  carry  weight.  Did  I tell  you  I rowed  with  my  father 
up  to  Hampton  Court,  and  met  William  and  a large  party, 
Miss  Boothby  [whom  William  Millais  afterwards  married], 
Miss  Eyre  [who  sat  to  Millais  several  times],  Coleridge,  etc. 
Miss  Boothby  and  I and  William  and  Miss  Eyre  had  a race 
home,  and  we  beat  them.  My  hands  suffered  in  consequence, 
so  I cannot  row  again  just  now.” 

“ April  29/A — I have  just  come  from  the  private  view. 
To  tell  you  the  truth,  I think  it  likely  I shall  not  sell  one 
of  the  pictures.  The  clique  has  been  most  successful 
against  me  this  year,  and  few  people  look  at  my  work. 
Ruskin  was  there,  looking  at  ‘ The  Nuns  and  Tom  Taylor, 
who  said  nothing.  Everywhere  I hear  of  the  infamous 
attempts  to  destroy  me  (the  truth  is  these  pictures  are  not 
vulgar  enough  for  general  appreciation).  However,  I must 
wait,  for  I don't  know  what  the  Press  will  say  yet.  Seeing 
that  there  is  such  a strong  undercurrent  against  me,  it  is 
possible  they  may  lift  me  up. 

“ Gambart  was  there,  and  several  dealers,  but  none  spoke 
to  me.  They  are  not  anxious  to  look  into  my  eyes  jhst  now , 
and  no  wonder ! Reade  is  sitting  beside  me  as  I write 
this. 

44  The  fact  of  the  matter  is,  I am  out  of  fashion.  There 
will  doubtless  be  a reaction,  but  the  state  of  affairs  in  the 
Art  world  is  at  present  too  critical  to  admit  of  a good  reward 
for  all  my  labour.  This  is  rather  trying  to  me,  I confess, 
after  all  my  slavery,  but  it  will  account  to  you  for  my  want 
of  belief  in  the  profession.  You  see,  nobody  knows  any- 
thing about  Art,  so  one  is  all  at  sea.  The  failures  are  most 
terrible  in  London  just  now,  and  things  look  very  bad. 
What  will  become  of  Art,  I don’t  know.  It  will  not  be 
worth  following,  if  I cannot  sell  pictures  such  as  these.  I 
am  sorry  1 have  no  good  news  for  you,  dear,  but  the  look- 
out is  anything  but  refreshing.” 

“ May  5 /A — I returned  here  last  night  and  opened  three 
letters  from  you  — all  so  kind  and  nice  that  they  quite  set 
me  up.  There  have  been  no  inquiries  for  any  of  my 
pictures;  but  now  they  are  once  more  crowded — this  time 
more  than  ever.  You  may,  perhaps,  laugh  at  it,  but  I have 
heard  it  said  that  the  want  of  purchasers  is  a great  deal  due 


344  JOHN  EVERETT  MILLAIS  [is59 

to  Ruskin  having  in  his  last  pamphlet  said  that  I was  falling 
off. 

“ Hunt  and  Leech,  as  well  as  the  Rossettis  and  their 
clique,  have  expressed  their  admiration  of  my  work  of  late, 
and  yesterday  Marochetti  was  kind  enough  to  express  the 
same  sentiments.  Landseer,  who  was  with  him,  asked  my 
address,  in  case  he  should  have  to  write  me,  indicating  his 
desire  to  sell  them  for  me.  After  such  opinions  from  such 
men,  what  is  outside  criticism?  Yet,  in  spite  of  myself  and 
my  own  convictions,  I feel  humiliated. 

“ It  has  become  so  much  the  fashion  to  abuse  me  in  the 
Press,  that  my  best  friends  now  occasionally  talk  in  the  same 
way.  I have  lost  all  pleasure  and  hope  in  my  profession. 

“ William  has  gone  to  the  Exhibition,  and  I made  arrange- 
ments to  go  to  Aldershot  with  Leech  ; but  all  this  anxiety, 
however  much  I try  to  dispel  it,  destroys  my  peace  of  mind, 
and  I have  a bad  headache.  Everybody  bothers  me  too 
about  living  in  the  North , and  says  I have  cut  all  my 
original  friends,  and  will  inevitably  lose  their  interest.  I 
candidly  confess  I never  had  such  a trying  time  in  my  life. 
I would  not  care  a farthing  if  I were  a bachelor,  but  for 
your  sake  I cannot  take  such  injustice  calmly.  It  is  a 
strange  and  unexpected  end  to  all  my  labour,  and  I can  only 
hope  it  will  not  affect  you  overmuch.” 

“ May  io til.  — Many  happy  returns  of  the  day,  my  darling. 
I have  just  returned  from  Cambridge,  where  I met  Mrs. 
Jones , of  Pantglass , the  duke’s  enchantress.  She  made 
many  inquiries  about  you,  and  sent  her  best  love.  She  is 
most  amusing,  and  I talked  with  her  all  the  evening.  She 
is  a very  handsome  woman,  with  a fine  figure,  and  got  up 
most  gorgeously.  I was  made  much  of  by  the  Cambridge 
men.  Ruskin’s  pamphlet  is  out,  and  White  says  it  is  favour- 
able, although  stating  that  the  pictures  are  painted  in  my 
worst  manner.  How  extraordinary  the  fate  of  these  pictures 
has  been ! Never  have  pictures  been  more  mobbed,  but 
now  the  crowds  mostly  abuse  them,  following  the  mass  of 
criticism ; yet  the  fuss  they  are  making  in  a way  makes 
up  for  the  abuse.  No  words  can  express  the  curious  envy 
and  hatred  these  works  have  brought  to  light.  Some  of  the 
papers,  I believe,  have  been  so  violent  that  for  two  days 
together  they  have  poured  forth  such  abuse  as  was  never 
equalled  in  the  annals  of  criticism.  My  works  are  not 
understood  by  the  men  who  set  themselves  up  as  judges. 


SUPPORT  OF  HIS  FRIENDS 


345 


1859] 

Only  when  I am  dead  ivill  they  know  their  worth.  I could 
not  believe  in  such  wanton  cruelty  as  has  been  shown  to  me 
this  year.  There  is  no  doubt  that  the  critics  have  ruined 
the  sale,  for  all  who  would  have  come  forward  now  say  that 
the  nuns  and  grave  are  miserable  to  look  at,  and  the  apple- 
blossoms  full  of  ugliness.  Let  me,  however,  assure  you,  that 
they  must  win  their  way  to  the  front  in  time. 

“ The  country  is  blooming  everywhere  now,  and  everything 
is  happy.  It  is  dreadful  to  be  away  from  you  so  long.  I am 
so  glad  to  hear  the  children  are  well.  I wish  I could  embrace 
them  all ; it  would  be  delightful  after  all  this  vexation.  Fate 
seems  determined  to  make  my  profession  hateful  to  me.” 

Needless  to  say  how  welcome  at  such  a time  was  the 
hearty  support  of  the  few  members  of  the  Academy  and 
artist  friends  who  refused  to  join  in  the  cabal  against  him 
and  his  works,  prominent  amongst  whom  were  Hunt, 
Landseer,  Leech,  Thackeray,  Reade,  and  the  two  Rossettis. 
Amongst  outsiders,  too,  were  many  sympathising  friends, 
whose  kind  words  and  letters  helped  him  to  take  heart  again 
even  in  the  darkest  hours  when  oppression  had  well-nigh 
driven  him  to  despair. 

Amongst  these  was  his  friend  Mr.  Lloyd,  from  whose 
letter  I venture  to  quote  a few  memorable  words.  He 
says  : — “I  merely  wish,  by  writing  to  you,  to  protest  on 
behalf  of  myself  and  many  friends  against  the  injustice  of 
the  London  critics,  and  to  assure  you  that  whenever  I have 
discussed  your  picture  [‘The  Vale  of  Rest']  with  persons 
whose  opinions  are  deservedly  valued,  I have  found  them 
nearly  as  enthusiastic  admirers  of  it  as  myself.  Some,  too, 
agree  with  me  that  it  is  not  only  your  greatest  work,  but 
that  it  by  far  excels  in  truthfulness,  in  rendering,  and  in 
nobleness  of  conception  any  picture  exhibited  within  my 
recollection  on  the  Royal  Academy  walls  by  any  other 
artist.  That  you  will  live  to  see  its  merits  more  publicly 
acknowledged  I have  little  doubt,  and  I sincerely  hope  that 
the  ingratitude  and  prejudice  of  those  who  presume  to 
dictate  to  the  public  what  to  admire  will  not  induce  you 
to  disbelieve  that  there  are  thousands  to  whom  your  paint- 
ings are  a great  intellectual  pleasure,  and  that  the  gradual 
liberation  of  the  public  mind  from  conventional  rules  will 
bring  thousands  more  to  the  shrine  hallowed  by  yourself  and 
those  of  your  brother  artists  who  boldly  and  conscientiously 
pursue  the  path  of  truth.” 


346  JOHN  EVERETT  MILLAIS  [1859 

Returning  now  to  Millais’  own  letters,  I find:  — 

“ May  \gtfi. — There  is  a decided  improvement  in  the  look 
of  things.  Gambart  writes  me  a long  letter,  and  I have  a 
commission  for  a picture  from  New  York.  I am  perfectly 
certain  that  there  will  be  a reaction  in  my  favour,  sooner 
or  later,  as  the  abuse  has  been  so  violent.  I wish  I could 
afford  to  keep  the  pictures,  as  I am  perfectly  sure  they  will 
one  day  fetch  very  large  sums.  There  is  no  chance  of  my 
selling  my  pictures  to  gentlemen  — the  dealers  are  too  strong. 


SKETCH  OF  MISS  KATE  DICKENS  FOR  “THE  BLACK  BRUNSWICKER.”  1859 

Picture-buyers  can  barter  with  them  when  they  cannot  with 
the  artist,  and  my  pictures  have  remained  unsold  so  long 
that  no  one  will  believe  that  they  are  valuable.  All  the 
other  pictures  of  any  pretensions  in  the  Exhibition  are  sold. 
This  is,  of  course,  fearfully  dispiriting,  and  a matter  of 
wonder  to  me,  as  I have  a high  reputation ; but  my  de- 
tractors have  really  induced  the  public  to  believe  that  the 
faults  in  my  pictures  spoil  all  the  beauties.  The  crowds, 
too,  round  the  pictures  increase,  but  1 am  too  much  dis- 
gusted to  think  more  about  them.  If  I sell  them,  I will 
wipe  the  memory  of  them  for  ever  from  my  mind,  they 
have  been  such  torments  to  me.” 

At  last  the  star  of  hope  appeared  on  the  horizon,  in  a 
quarter  where  it  was  least  expected.  The  picture-dealers 


THE  STAR  OF  HOPE 


347 


1S59] 


began  to  come  round,  making  timid  inquiries  as  to  prices; 
and  one  of  them  actually  bought  “The  Vale  of  Rest.” 
Commissions,  too,  came  in,  and  the  whole  aspect  of  affairs 
was  suddenly  changed.  The  effect  of  all  this  upon  Millais 
will  be  seen  in  the  two  following  letters,  written,  it  will  be 
noticed,  on  two  con- 
secutive days. 

“ May  1 6 th.  — Cheer 
up  ! Things  are  quietly 
coming  round.  Already 
there  is  quite  another 
aspect  of  affairs.  W.  is 
to  give  me  a decided 
answer  whether  or  not 
a client  of  his  will  have 
‘ The  Nuns.’  There  is 
a demand  also  for  the 
small  picture,  and  G. 
wants  to  have  the  copy- 
right, and  is  to  let  me 
know  to-morrow  morn- 
ing whether  he  will  have 
the  picture.  Indeed, 
now  1 have  n’t  a doubt 
that  I shall  sell  all  three.* 

So  much  for  the  brutal 
criticisms  ! The  fact  is, 

I shall  have  my  own 
way  after  all.  If  dealers 
give  my  prices  they 
must  make  twenty  per 
cent,  on  them. 

“ Last  evening  I was 
dining  at  the  Prinsep’s, 
and  Watts  quite  cheered  me.  He  says  they  will  live  for  ever, 
and  will  soon  find  their  proper  place.  It  will  be  a great  triumph 
in  the  end.  The  curious  part  of  it  is  that  ‘The  Orchard’  is 
considerably  more  popular  than  ‘ The  Nuns,’  and  much  more 
crowded.  Hunt  and  Rossetti  are  wild  about  the  latter.  One 


SKETCH  OF  MISS  KATE  PICKENS  FOR 
“THE  BLACK  BRUNSWICKER.”  1859 


* “The  Vale  of  Rest,”  bought  by  Mr.  Windus,  of  Tottenham,  through  W.  the 
dealer,  for  700  guineas,  was  afterwards  sold  to  Mr.  Tate  for  ^3000.  It  now  hangs 
in  the  Tate  Gallery,  and  is  by  common  consent  regarded  as  one  of  the  artist’s 
greatest  pictures. 


JOHN  EVERETT  MILLAIS 


348 


[1859 


sees  now  how  abuse  can  create  attraction  ! I have  just 
been  to  G.  to  sign  the  last  forty  prints  of  ‘ The  Order  of 
Release.’  He  tells  me  that  ‘The  Royalist’  had  done  well 
for  him,  and  you  will  remember  how  fearfully  it  was  abused 
when  exhibited.  X.  [a  dealer]  begs  me  to  paint  the 
‘ Petrarch  and  Laura,’  and  the  dealers  all  look  rather  sheepish 
in  asking  me  what  I want  for  the  pictures,  being  evidently 
afraid  of  one  another,  and  yet  not  liking  to  appear  too  eager.” 

“ May  ijt/i. — I enclose  X.’s  letter,  which  you  will  under- 
stand. Whatever  I do,  no  matter  how  successful,  it  will 
always  be  the  same  story.  ‘Why  don't  you  give  us  the 
Huguenot  again  ? ’ Yet  I will  be  bound  the  cunning  fellow 
is  looking  forward  to  engraving  this  very  picture.  You  see 
lie  says  at  the  end  of  his  note  he  will  ‘ risque  ’ engraving  it  if 

“ I have  now  enough  commissions  to  last  me  all  next  year, 
so  I am  quite  happy.  I am  so  glad  to  hear  you  are  getting 
well  and  strong  again.  That  is  better  than  all  the  sales  of 
pictures.” 

On  May  21st  he  went  to  meet  his  wife  at  Birmingham, 
and  brought  her  back  with  him  to  Kingston,  where,  after  all 
the  excitement  of  this  year,  he  was  glad  to  have  a quiet  time 
while  working  away  at  his  small  commissions. 

Before  saying  good-bye  to  “ The  Vale  of  Rest,”  let  me 
quote  the  words  of  Frances  Low,  who  has  admirably  caught 
the  spirit  of  its  teaching:  — “Who  that  has  ever  seen  this 
picture  forgets  the  wondrous  sunset  light  that  lingers,  with 
a thousand  evanescent  hues,  over  the  evening  face  of  Nature, 
transforming  and  transfiguring  decay,  death  itself,  into  a radiant 
golden  vision  ? The  spell  of  the  figure  is  deepened  by  the 
dramatic  face  of  the  nun,  whose  deep,  mysterious,  and  in- 
scrutable eyes  seem  to  reflect  the  spirit  of  inanimate  Nature, 
with  its  unsurpassed  loveliness  and  terror,  and  bid  the 
troubled  human  soul  seek  its  answer  there.” 

At  the  end  of  June  my  mother  went  North  again,  to  make 
ready  for  her  husband’s  coming  — to  a house  near  Bowerswell, 
called  Potter  Hill,  which  they  had  taken  for  the  autumn;  and 
there  he  wrote  to  her : — 

“ July  20///.  — ‘The  Knight’  [‘Sir  Isumbras ’]  leaves  by 
carrier  to-day,  and  I go  up  to  town  with  a little  sketch  of  it 
for  White,  and  ‘The  Bridesmaid’  for  Gambart.  What  do 
you  think  ? I have  have  nearly  finished  one  of  the  heads  from 
Miss  Eyre,  and  by  staying  another  week  I shall  manage  to 


1859] 


LETTERS  TO  HIS  WIFE 


349 


do  the  other.  I shall  love  to  see  you  again,  and  to  get  home. 
. . . Yesterday  I dined  with  Colonel  Challoner  at  the  mess 
— a very  nice  old  boy  indeed,  and  rather  like  what  poor  old 
Captain  Lempriere  was. 

“ I have  managed  everything  satisfactorily.  William  is  to 
bring  ‘The  Vale  of  Rest’  and  ‘James’  Love’  [“The  Love 
of  James  I.  of  Scotland  ']  to  Perth  with  him  immediately 
after  the  close  of  the  Royal  Academy  on  the  30th,  when 
‘The  Orchard’  goes  to  Liverpool.  In  ‘The  Vale’  I have 
just  to  make  the  nun’s  face  a little  prettier;  must  give  also  a 
few  touches  to  ‘ James’  Love.’  Then  William  will  return  with 
the  pictures,  taking  one  to  Windus  and  the  other  to  Gambart. 
I could  not  well  touch  the  nun’s  face  without  a look  at  Mrs. 
Paton  [the  woman  who  sat  for  the  figure]. 

“ I am  working  very  hard,  considering  the  heat  of  the 
weather.  Miss  Eyre  (the  younger  one)  is  waiting  for  me  to 
paint  her.  She  makes  a most  lovely  picture,  and  it  is  ad- 
mired more  than  anything  I have  ever  done  of  the  kind.” 

The  autumn  holiday  followed,  and  then,  greatly  refreshed, 
Millais  returned  to  town,  intent  on  finding  a home  there  for 
himself  and  his  family.  From  his  old  quarters  in  Langham 
Chambers,  to  which  he  now  went  back,  he  wrote  to  my  mother : 

“ November  17///,  1859.  — Yesterday  I dined  at  the  Garrick, 
and  was  with  Gambart  driving  about  all  day  looking  for  a 

house.  Saw  three,  but  all  dampish  and  too  near  Mr.  G 

and  a lot  of  the  artistic  crew  whom  I do  not  wish  to  know, 
so  I will  look  in  healthier  localities.  Napoleon's  old  house, 
where  his  loves  resided,  is  not  to  be  let  for  any  term  under 
seven  years,  which  is  of  course  out  of  the  question  for  us. 
White  is  delighted  with  the  sketch,  and  says  that  ‘ The 
Orchard  ’ is  certain  to  sell  this  winter.  There  was  an  election 
of  two  Royal  Academicians  yesterday  at  the  Academy,  the 
choice  being  the  last-made  Associate,  Phillip,  and  one  Smirke, 
an  unknown  architect  or  sculptor,  I really  don’t  know  which. 

“ I happened  to  be  dining  last  night  next  to  Roberts  and 
Stansfield,  who  would  not  be  persuaded  to  believe  my  state- 
ment that  I was  not  aware  that  it  was  election  night,  which 
was  perfectly  true.  Both  Stansfield  and  Roberts  voted  for 
Phillip,  and  I believe  I had  n’t  a vote  at  all.  So  you  see  it  is 
pretty  well  as  I have  always  told  you,  but  it  is  really  a matter 
of  entire  indifference  to  me,  as  my  position  is  as  good  as  any 
except  Landseer’s ; and  this  they  too  well  know.  All  the 
petty  insults  they  can  heap  on  me  they  will. 


350  JOHN  EVERETT  MILLAIS  [is59 

“ After  dining  at  the  Garrick  I went  to  the  Cosmopolitan, 
and  there  met  Morier  [Sir  Robert  Morier,  afterwards  our 
Minister  at  St.  Petersburg],  who  was  just  going  away  to 
Berlin.  He  did  not  know  me,  and  took  me  for  Leighton,  so 
I have  been  taken  twice  for  him  of  late.  There  must  be  a 
likeness  between  us.  Charley  Collins  is  writing  a novel, 
which  is  already  advertised.  Gambart  is  making  strenuous 
efforts  to  get  ‘ The  Rescue  ’ to  engrave.  He  has  sold  both 
‘James’  Love’  and  ‘The  Girl  on  the  Terrace,’  so  you  see 
he  does  not  want  for  immediate  profit  on  my  work.” 

“ The  Black  Brunswicker,”  one  of  Millais’  most  successful 
pictures,  was  now  in  his  mind.  In  his  next  letter  he  gives 
his  first  idea  of  the  way  in  which  the  subject  should  be 
treated. 

“ November  iS th. — Yesterday  I dined  with  Leech,  who  had 
a small  dinner-party.  Mrs.  Dickens  was  there,  also  Mr.  and 
Mrs.  Dallas,  whom  you  remember,  and  Billy  Russell  (the 
Times  correspondent)  and  his  wife.  Shirley  Brooks  and 
myself  were  the  rest  of  the  party.  We  had  some  very  inter- 
esting stories  and  gossip  from  Billy  Russell,  which  would 
delight  you  all.  I will  keep  them  for  you  when  we  meet. 
Oddly  enough,  he  touched  upon  the  subject  of  the  picture  I 
am  going  to  paint , and  I asked  him  to  clear  up  for  me  one  or 
two  things  connected  with  it.  He  is  a capital  fellow,  and  is 
going  to  write  me  a long  letter  with  correct  information, 
which  he  can  get.  I told  him  my  project  (as  it  was  abso- 
lutely necessary),  but  he  promised  to  keep  it  secret,  knowing 
how  things  are  pirated.  It  was  very  fortunate,  my  meeting 
him,  as  he  is  the  very  best  man  for  military  information.  My 
subject  appears  to  me,  too,  most  fortunate,  and  Russell  thinks 
it  first-rate.  It  is  connected  with  the  Brunswick  Cavalry  at 
Waterloo. 

Brunswickers  ’ they  were  called,  and  were  composed 
of  the  best  gentlemen  in  Germany.  They  wore  a black 
uniform  with  death’s  head  and  cross-bones,  and  gave  and 
received  no  quarter.  They  were  nearly  annihilated,  but 
performed  prodigies  of  valour.  It  is  with  respect  to  their 
having  worn  crape  on  their  arms  in  token  of  mourning  that 
I require  some  information;  and  as  it  will  be  a perfect 
pendant  to  ‘ The  Huguenot,’  I intend  making  the  sweetheart 
of  a young  soldier  sewing  it  round  his  arm,  and  vainly  sup- 
plicating him  to  keep  from  the  bugle-call  to  arms.  / have 
it  all  in  my  mind ' s eye , and  feel  confident  that  it  will  be  a 


‘THE  BLACK  BRUNSWICKER.”  i860 

By  permission  0/  H . Graves  and  Son 


i86o] 


“THE  BLACK  BRUNSWICKER  ” 


353 


prodigious  success.  The  costume  and  incident  are  so  power- 
ful that  I am  astonished  it  has  never  been  touched  upon 
before.  Russell  was  quite  struck  with  it,  and  he  is  the  best 
man  for  knowing  the  public  taste.  Nothing  could  be  kinder 
than  his  interest,  and  he  is  to  set  about  getting  all  the  infor- 
mation that  is  required. 

“ I sat  next  Mrs.  Dickens,  who  desired  her  best  remem- 
brances to  you,  and  hopes  you  will  call  and  bring  the  children 
to  see  her. 

“ To-morrow  I am  going  shooting  with  Lewis  in  Kent. 
I have  made  up  my  mind  not  to  live  in  town,  but  out  in 
the  Kingston  direction,  as  all  the  houses  I have  seen  here 
appear  dirty  and  damp.  White,  too,  thinks  it  would  be 
decidedly  better  for  me  to  be  out  of  the  way  of  cliques. 
I will  draw  in  my  picture  [‘  The  Black  Brunswicker ']  here. 
White  confesses  to  me  that,  with  the  exception  of  Landseer 
and  myself,  there  is  not  an  artist  whose  pictures  are  safe 
to  sell.  Most  men  get  a fictitious  value  placed  on  their 
works,  and  ruin  themselves  by  producing  too  much.  Their 
pictures  are  for  sale  every  month.  I am  glad  to  think  that 
when  mine  sell  they  are  placed  permanently. 

In  the  spring  of  1S60  they  took  a nice  house  at  the  corner 
of  Bryanstone  Square,  where  he  went  on  with  his  work  on 
“ The  Black  Brunswicker.”  And  thereby  hangs  a tale. 
Miss  Kate  Dickens  (Charles  Dickens’  daughter,  now  Mrs. 
Perugini)  sat  for  the  lady  — a handsome  girl,  with  a particularly 
sweet  expression  and  beautiful  auburn  hair  that  contrasted 
well  with  the  sheen  of  her  white  satin  dress.  The  picture 
had  not  long  been  finished  before  the  figure  was  claimed 
by  more  than  one  of  the  celebrities  of  the  day;  while,  as 
to  the  Brunswicker,  no  less  than  five  or  six  distinguished 
officers  were  said  to  have  sat  for  it ; but  the  fact  is  that  my 
father,  wishing  to  obtain  the  handsomest  model  he  could, 
went,  on  the  invitation  of  his  friend  the  Colonel  of  the 
ist  Life  Guards,  to  inspect  the  regiment  on  parade  at 
Albany  Street  Barracks,  and  there  he  found  the  very  man  he 
wanted  in  a private  soldier  — a splendid  type  of  masculine 
beauty  — and  having,  after  great  difficulty,  obtained  the 
uniform  of  a Black  Brunswicker,  he  dressed  him  in  it  and 
painted  his  portrait.  The  poor  fellow  (I  forget  his  name) 
died  of  consumption  in  the  following  year. 

The  curious  in  such  matters  may  like  to  know  how  the 
figures  posed.  I may  say,  therefore,  that  the  two  models 

1 — 23 


354  JOHN  EVERETT  MILLAIS  [i860 

never  sat  together.  “ The  Black  Brunswicker  ” * clasped  a 
lay-figure  to  his  breast,  while  the  fair  lady  leant  on  the  bosom 
of  a man  of  wood. 

The  work  was  sold  to  M.  Gambart  for  one  thousand 
guineas.  It  took  a long  time  to  paint,  and  my  father  was  so 
pleased  with  it  that  he  afterwards  did  a replica  in  oils,  which 
is  now  in  the  possession  of  the  family. 

Mrs.  Perugini  has  kindly  favoured  me  with  the  following 
note  of  her  experience  as  a sitter  for  this  picture  : — 

“ I made  your  father’s  acquaintance  when  I was  quite  a 
young  girl.  Very  soon  after  our  first  meeting  he  wrote  to 
my  father,  asking  him  to  allow  me  to  sit  to  him  for  a head 
in  one  of  the  pictures  he  was  then  painting,  ‘ The  Black 
Brunswicker.’  My  father  consenting,  I used  to  go  to  your 
mother  and  father’s  house,  somewhere  in  the  North  of 
London,  accompanied  by  an  old  lady,  a friend  of  your 
family.  I was  very  shy  and  quiet  in  those  days,  and  during 
the  ' sittings  ’ I was  only  too  glad  to  leave  the  conversation 
to  be  carried  on  by  your  father  and  his  old  friend;  but  I 
soon  grew  to  be  interested  in  your  father’s  extraordinary 
vivacity,  and  the  keenness  and  delight  he  took  in  discussing 
books,  plays,  and  music,  and  sometimes  painting  — but  he 
always  spoke  less  of  pictures  than  of  anything  else  — and  these 
sittings,  to  which  I had  looked  forward  with  a certain  amount 
of  dread  and  dislike,  became  so  pleasant  to  me  that  I was 
heartily  sorry  when  they  came  to  an  end  and  my  presence 
was  no  more  required  in  his  studio. 

“ As  I stood  upon  my  ‘ throne,’  listening  attentively  to 
everything  that  passed,  I noticed  one  day  that  your  father 
was  much  more  silent  than  usual,  that  he  was  very  restless, 
and  a little  sharp  in  his  manner  when  he  asked  me  to  turn  my 
head  this  way  or  that.  Either  my  face  or  his  brush  seemed 
to  be  out  of  order,  and  he  could  not  get  on.  At  last,  turning 
impatiently  to  his  old  friend,  he  exclaimed,  ‘ Come  and  tell 
me  what’s  wrong  here,  I can’t  see  any  more,  I ’ve  got  blind 
over  it.’  She  laughingly  excused  herself,  saying  she  was  no 
judge,  and  would  n’t  be  of  any  use,  upon  which  he  turned  to 
me.  ‘ Do  you  come  down,  my  dear,  and  tell  me,’  he  said. 
As  he  was  quite  grave  and  very  impatient,  there  was  nothing 

* “A  gentleman  came  into  his  studio,  and  seeing  his  famous  picture  of  the 
‘ Black  Brunswicker,’  asked,  ‘ What  uniform  is  that  ? ’ Millais,  who  had  been  at 
great  trouble  and  expense  to  procure  the  exact  costume,  replied,  ‘The  Black 
Brunswicker.’  ‘ Oh,  indeed,’  said  the  visitor ; ‘ 1 knew  it  was  one  of  the  volunteers, 
but  I was  n’t  sure  which  regiment.’  ” — The  Memories  of  Dean  Hole. 


iS6o] 


THE  ACADEMY  EXHIBITION 


355 


for  it  but  to  descend  from  my  throne  and  take  my  place 
beside  him.  As  I did  so  I happened  to  notice  a slight 
exaggeration  in  something  I saw  upon  his  canvas,  and  told 
him  of  it.  Instantly,  and  greatly  to  my  dismay,  he  took 
up  a rag  and  wiped  out  the  whole  of  the  head,  turning  at  the 
same  time  triumphantly  to  his  old  friend.  ‘There!  that’s 
what  I always  say;  a fresh  eye  can  see  everything  in  a 
moment,  and  an  artist  should  ask  a stranger  to  come  in  and 
look  at  his  work,  every  day  of  his  life.  There ! get  back  to 
your  place,  my  dear,  and  we  ’ll  begin  all  over  again  ! ’ ” 

As  the  time  approached  for  the  opening  of  the  Royal 
Academy  Exhibition,  1S60,  great  was  the  curiosity  amongst 
those  who  had  seen  “The  Black  Brunswicker  ” * as  to  the 
view  the  Press  would  take  of  it,  after  the  furious  onslaught 
they  had  made  on  the  artist’s  previous  works.  The  remark- 
able success  of  these  works,  in  spite  of  all  their  sneers  and 
taunts,  would  hardly,  it  was  thought,  encourage  them  to 
renew  the  attack ; but  that  they  would  give  it  a word  of 
welcome  was  not  to  be  expected,  good  as  the  picture  was, 
and  however  much  it  might  be  admired. 

And  now,  when  it  appeared  on  the  Academy  walls,  the 
public  hailed  it  enthusiastically  as  one  of  the  greatest  gems 
of  the  Exhibition ; but,  with  few  exceptions,  the  Press, 
apparently  willing  to  wound,  but  yet  afraid  to  strike,  re- 
viewed it  in  the  most  ungracious  spirit.  To  Millais,  how- 
ever, these  anonymous  criticisms  had  ceased  to  be  of  any 
moment.  Confident  in  his  own  powers,  and  in  full  assurance 
of  success  after  the  victory  of  previous  years,  he  now  found 
renewed  pleasure  in  his  work,  and  never  spared  himself  in 
perfecting  to  the  best  of  his  ability  whatever  he  had  in  hand, 
whether  oil-paintings  or  black-and-white  drawings  for  the 
magazines,  then  in  great  request.  Of  this  year’s  letters 
I have  few  beyond  those  written  to  his  wife  immediately 
before  and  after  the  opening  of  the  Academy. 

“ April  I'jth,  i860.  — The  Leslie  dinner  was  most  agree- 
able. The  company  there  — Duke  of  Argyle,  Lord  and 
Lady  Spencer,  Lady  Wharncliffe,  Sir  E.  Landseer,  Mulready, 
and  myself.  I went  home  afterwards  with  Sir  Edwin,  and 
spent  some  four  hours  in  conversation  over  brandy  and 
water.  Yesterday  Frere’s  dinner  was  delightful.  To-morrow 

* The  picture  occupied  three  months  in  painting.  The  success  caused  the  artist 
to  make  an  exact  copy  of  the  original.  This,  however,  was  never  quite  finished, 
and  is  now  in  the  possession  of  the  family. 


356  JOHN  EVERETT  MILLAIS  [.S60 

I go  to  the  Royal  Academy  to  touch  up.  Hunt’s  picture 
seems  to  be  doing  well  as  an  exhibition.” 

“ May  2nd. — I write  this  from  Martineau’s,  where  I have 
just  seen  Hunt  and  Val  Prinsep.  All  yesterday  I was  at 
the  Royal  Academy,  and  in  the  evening  I had  such  a bad 
headache  that  I was  obliged  to  return  and  go  to  bed  early. 
I am,  however,  all  right  this  morning.  I found  the  woman 
in  ‘ The  Black  Brunswicker  ’ looking  much  better  than  I had 
hoped,  and  I very  much  improved  her.  The  whole  picture  is 
by  far  the  most  satisfactory  work  I ever  sent  there.  Every- 
one has  expressed  the  same  opinion ; its  success  is  certain. 
I met  Tom  Taylor  at  the  Cosmopolitan  with  your  father,  and 
he  said  he  had  heard  nothing  but  " dead  good'  of  it.” 

After  commenting  on  some  other  Academy  pictures,  he 
continues : — “ The  fact  is,  the  Royal  Academy  is  the  only 
place  for  a man  to  find  his  real  level.  All  the  defects  come 
out  so  clearly  that  no  private  puffing  is  worth  a farthing. 
You  cannot  thrust  pictures  down  people’s  throats.” 

“ May  $rd.  — You  seem  to  see  much  more  than  we  do  here. 
I have  seen  no  criticism  on  Hunt’s  picture  [Holman  Hunt 
was  having  a private  exhibition  of  his  work,  which  was  very 
successful],  and  have  only  heard  of  one  in  the  Illustrated 
London  News.  The  Times  has  n’t  noticed  it  yet.  I read 
what  it  said  of  ‘ The  Black  Brunswicker,’  which  was  flippant, 
and  not  at  all  hearty  in  praise;  moreover,  it  reads  the  story 
wrong.*  The  Athenceum  is  all  right,  but  as  it  is  written 
by  a friend  [F.  G.  Stephens]  it  is  not  surprising.  That  the 
picture  is  a great  success  there  is  no  doubt. 

“ I was  at  the  Royal  Academy  this  morning,  but  did  not 
go  when  the  public  were  admitted.  Cooke  (Royal  Academy) 
asked  me  to  dine  with  him  at  the  Academy  Club  dinner  at 
Greenwich,  the  annual  feast.  Although  I accepted,  I was 
obliged  to  excuse  myself,  for  I met  Dalziel  yesterday,  and 
he  said  I must  give  him  the  ‘Framley’  illustration  on  Wed- 
nesday, so  I have  returned  from  the  Academy  to  design 
it.  Cooke  was  evidently  much  vexed,  and  some  of  the 
Royal  Academicians  seem  to  think  I wish  to  avoid  them, 
they  are  so  suspicious  of  me.  I could  not  help  it,  however, 
and  they  must  think  what  they  like.  Yesterday  I went  to 

* Millais  meant  the  incident  to  be  taking  place  on  the  eve  of  Waterloo  or 
Quatre  Bras,  June,  1815,  at  which  battle  the  leader  of  the  Black  Brunswickers, 
the  Duke  of  Brunswick,  was  killed.  The  young  Prussian  is  supposed  to  be  saying 
good-bye  to  an  English  girl. 


i860] 


LETTERS  TO  HIS  WIFE 


357 


Arden’s  with  Gambart,  who,  in  my  presence,  offered  more 
than  once  to  buy  from  him  ‘ The  Rescue  ’ [the  picture  of 
the  fireman]  for  T2000!  Fancy  that!  / received  ffiHo  for 
it.  Gambart  appears  to  be  in  the  best  spirits,  and  anxious 
to  have  everything  I am  doing.  He  says  if  I will  let  him 
have  my  pictures  to  exhibit  separately  from  the  Royal 
Academy,  he  will  give  me  as  much  again  for  them ; it 
would  be  worth  his  while.  Arden  is  very  anxious  to  have 
‘ The  Black  Brunswicker,’  and  I am  to  paint  a duplicate 
the  same  size  directly  it  comes  from  the  Academy. 

“ I must  now  go  and  read  Framley  Parsonage , and  try 
and  get  something  out  of  it  for  my  drawing.  The  dinner 
was  very  grand,  and  many  of  the  blue  ribbon  swells  were 
introduced  to  me,  and  asked  whether  the  Times  reading 
was  correct.  My  picture  certainly  looks  most  satisfactory. 
There  is  nothing  in  the  Exhibition  to  attract  but  Landseer’s, 
Phillip’s,  and  mine.  I will  try  and  leave  this  place  on 
Thursday  or  Friday.  This  is  a long  letter,  but  I have 
lots  to  tell  you  when  I come.  So  glad  the  children  are  well 
and  your  mother  progressing.  Keep  yourself  cjuite  happy, 
for  we  have  every  reason  to  be  thankful  this  year.” 

“ May  \th , i860. — I write  this  from  Barwell’s  after  having 
been  for  about  two  minutes  at  the  private  view.  That  sight 
is  always  so  sickening  to  me  that  I cannot  stand  it.  I saw 
Gambart,  and  dine  with  him  this  evening.  I think  I told 
you  Windus  has  sold  ‘The  Huguenot’  to  Miller,  of  Preston, 
for  over  a thousand  (White  told  me  as  much).  Hunt’s 
exhibition  is  a tremendous  success,  and  I believe  Gambart 
is  to  give  him  T5°°°  for  bis  picture.  The  public  are  much 
taken  with  the  miniature-like  finish  and  the  religious 
character  of  the  subject.  The  Royal  Academy  are  tre- 
mendously jealous  of  the  success  of  the  picture,  and  his 
pocketing  such  a sum ; but  he  has  been  seven  years  at  it, 
and  he  says  it  has  cost  him  £2000  painting  it.  He  hasn’t 
earned  a farthing  all  that  time.  I saw  Watts’  fresco  in 
Lincoln’s-inn  Hall  this  morning,  and  it  is  magnificent — by 
far  the  best  thing  of  the  kind  in  the  kingdom.  . . . To- 
morrow is  the  dinner  at  the  Royal  Academy,  and  next  week 
I hope  to  get  to  work  at  the  blocks  for  the  parables  and  the 
Cornhill.  I will  come  very  soon,  and  will  then  get  on  with 
‘ The  Poacher’s  Wife  ’ and  other  work.” 

“ August  \\th. — I have  finished  all  my  work  except  the 
parables,  which  1 can  do  in  the  North.  Bradbury  and 


358  JOHN  EVERETT  MILLAIS  [i860 

Evans  want  to  buy  my  woodcut  services,  and  I see  them 
with  Leech  to-day  at  one.  I will  not  bind  myself  in  any 
way.  At  the  same  time,  if  they  make  me  a thoroughly 
good  offer,  it  is  worth  considering.  Leech  says  he  thinks 
they  would  give  me  T5°°  a year  if  I could  regularly  supply 
them;  but  this  has  to  be  considered,  as  I cannot  let  illustra- 
tion interfere  with  my  painting.  It  is  pleasant  to  hear  of 
my  wood  drawings  rising  to  so  much  value.  . . 

Down  to  this  time  his  black-and-white  drawings,  of  which 
he  made  many,  principally  for  contemporary  literature,  were 
done  on  boxwood,  and  destroyed  in  the  process  of  cutting-in. 
Happily,  however,  the  highly-finished  illustrations,  of  which 
he  did  a large  number  in  1853  and  the  three  following  years, 
were  drawn  on  paper  in  pen  and  ink,  and  finished  in  sepia- 
wash  or  body  colour ; so  most  of  these  drawings  are  still  left 
in  their  original  state,  instead  of  being  cut  to  pieces  and 
ruined  by  the  barbarians  of  the  wood-cutting  art. 

Truly  the  wood-cutters  of  that  day  had  much  to  answer 
for.  Except,  perhaps,  Swain,  Dalziel,  and  John  Thompson 
(who  cut  the  Tennyson  blocks)  not  one  of  them  had  the 
faintest  conception  of  how  to  retain  the  beautiful  and  delicate 
lines  of  the  original  drawings;  and  even  the  best  work  of 
these  experts  would  make  the  hair  of  the  engravers  of 
Harper s Magazine  stand  on  end  nowadays. 

The  black-and-white  artists  of  to-day  have  their  drawings 
reproduced  by  various  processes,  which  leave  little  to  be 
desired  ; but  if  they  could  see,  as  I have  done,  some  of  my 
father’s  wood  blocks  before  and  after  the  drawings  had  been 
cut  upon,  they  would  indeed  feel  how  much  their  predecessors 
had  to  suffer  — even  more,  perhaps,  than  the  old  Celt  of 
historic  fame,  who  exclaimed,  as  he  held  his  head  in  church 
on  Sabbath  morning,  after  “a  nicht  wi’  Burns,”  “ Puir  auld 
Scotland,  ye  ’re  sons  are  sair  afflicted,  whiles.” 

The  choicest  of  my  father’s  black-and-white  drawings  have 
never  been  seen  by  any  but  the  family.  I am  therefore  all 
the  more  glad  to  give  some  of  them  here,  reproduced  by  our 
best  modern  processes.  Very  few  people  have  any  idea  of  the 
labour  and  care  that  he  expended  on  these  drawings.  Each 
one  of  them  was  to  him  a carefully  thought-out  picture,  worthy 
of  the  best  work  that  he  could  put  into  it ; and  I think  it  will 
be  seen  from  the  specimens  here  given  that  he  did  not  over- 
estimate the  value  of  the  art.  He  maintained,  indeed,  that  the 
few  men  cjuite  at  the  top  of  the  tree,  both  in  line  and  wash, 


i860] 


BLACK-AND-WHITE  WORK 


359 


were  entitled  to  rank  with  the  best  exponents  of  oil  and  water- 
colour ; and  if  he  had  lived  I feel  quite  sure  that,  with  his  keen 
desire  to  encourage  true  Art,  in  whatever  form  displayed,  we 
should  in  time  see  workers  in  black-and-white  admitted  as  freely 
to  the  honours  of  the  Academy  as  are  the  line-engravers. 

Few  and  far  between  are  those  who  could  ever  hope  to 
achieve  this  distinction,  but  I have  no  hesitation  in  saying 
that  infinitely  better  Art  is  to  be  found  in  Harper  s Magazine , 
the  Century , Scribner  s,  our  Art  magazines,  and  the  best  illus- 
trated books  of  the  day  (and  now  and  then  in  the  Graphic 
and  the  Illustrated  London  News)  than  in  one-half  the  pic- 
tures that  hang  on  the  walls  of  the  Royal  Academy  and  other 
Art  galleries. 

Look  at  the  drawings  of  such  men  as  Phil  May,  Caton 
Woodville,  C.  D.  Gibson,  E.  A.  Abbey,  Alfred  Parsons, 
Frederick  Remington,  E.  Smedley,  Reginald  Cleaver, 
Archibald  Thorburn,  John  Gulich,  D.  Hatherell,  Frank 
Brangwyn,  and  half  a dozen  others  of  similar  standing. 
Many  of  these  are  supremely  excellent  as  works  of  Art ; and 
yet  they  are  not  only  unrecognised  by  the  powers  that  be, 
but  go  for  nothing  in  the  market  by  comparison  with  hun- 
dreds of  old  engravings  that  have  nothing  but  their  antiquity 
and  their  rarity  to  recommend  them.  And  why?  Simply 
because  they  are  not  in  fashion.  No  recognised  connoisseur 
of  Art  has  taken  up  black-and-white  work  with  a view  to  a 
collection ; and  since  few  men  dare  to  trust  to  their  own 
judgment  as  buyers  of  Art  works,  fashion  (too  often  but  a 
passing  phase  of  ignorance  and  vulgarity)  controls  the 
market.  It  may  be  said,  perhaps,  that  as  a black-and-white 
artist  myself  I am  disposed  to  overrate  the  value  of  this 
class  of  work.  My  answer  is  that  I have  said  here  only 
what  I have  so  often  heard  from  my  father — a man  who 
touched  every  branch  of  the  painter’s  art,  who  succeeded  in 
all,  and  who  knew  the  difficulties  and  relative  values  of  each. 

In  1S60  he  made  a whole  series  of  drawings  for  Anthony 
Trollope’s  novel  Framley  Parsonage  — drawings  afterwards 
sold  to  Mr.  Plint,  the  dealer  who,  years  before,  had  bought 
his  “ Christ  in  the  House  of  His  Parents  ” — besides  illustra- 
tions for  the  Cornhill  Magazine , and  a considerable  amount 
of  work  for  Bradbury  and  Evans.  And  from  this  time 
onwards,  down  to  1S69,  lie  was  chiefly  engaged  in  black- 
and-white  work  and  water-colour  drawings,  under  commis- 
sions  from  various  publishers  and  picture  dealers,  including 


360  JOHN  EVERETT  MILLAIS  [i860 

Hurst  and  Blackett,  Chapman  and  Hall,  Bradbury  and 
Evans,  Smith  and  Elder,  Dalziel  Brothers,  and  Gambart. 
He  also  did  a little  work  for  the  Illustrated  London  News 
and  drawings  for  Punch , one  of  which  is  referred  to  in 
the  last  chapter,  the  works  illustrated  by  him  during  this 
period  including  Trollope’s  novel,  Orley  Farm , and  occasional 
numbers  of  the  Cornhill  Magazine , Good  Words , London 
Society , etc. 

The  money  he  received  for  these  drawings  was  but  a 
nominal  recompense  for  the  labour  bestowed  upon  them  ; for, 
unless  perfectly  satisfied  with  the  finished  production,  he 
would  tear  it  up  at  once,  even  if  he  had  spent  whole  days 
upon  it,  scamped  work  in  any  shape  being  an  abomination 
in  his  eyes.  It  was  a constant  source  of  lament  to  him  that, 
under  the  pressure  of  monetary  needs,  even  first-rate  men 
were  sometimes  compelled  to  turn  out  more  work  than  they 
could  possibly  do  with  credit  to  themselves.  He  would 
notice  this  now  and  then  in  the  illustrated  literature  of  the 
day,  and  out  would  come  the  remark,  “ Another  poor  devil 
gone  wrong  for  the  sake  of  a few  sovereigns ! ” 

He  himself  liked  the  work  as  an  occasional  change  from 
oils  ; but  knowing  how  little  the  pencil  could  make  by  com- 
parison with  the  brush,  he  refused  to  be  drawn  into  regular 
magazine  work,  which  (not  altogether  without  reason)  Marie 
Corelli  stigmatises  as  “ the  slough  of  despond.”  His  best 
work  of  this  sort,  and  one  of  the  best  examples  of  wood- 
cutting, were  to  be  seen  in  the  series  of  drawings  represent- 
ing “ The  Parables  of  our  Lord.”  They  were  engraved  by 
the  brothers  Dalziel,  and  he  made  replicas  of  them  in  water- 
colour for  a window  that  he  afterwards  presented  to  Kinnoull 
parish  church  in  memory  of  my  late  brother  George  — to  my 
mind  one  of  the  most  beautiful  windows  in  Great  Britain. 
All  the  backgrounds  to  the  parables  were  drawn  from 
Nature  at  or  around  Bowerswell,  and  many  of  the  landscapes 
can  be  easily  recognised,  having  altered  little  since  1862. 

During  this  time,  too,  he  seems  to  have  done  a great 
number  of  water-colours,  most  of  them  being  either  copies 
of,  or  designs  for,  his  larger  works.  For  these  there  was  a 
constant  demand,  and  the  dealers  worried  him  into  painting 
no  less  than  seven  or  eight  water-colour  replicas  of  “The 
Black  Brunswicker  ” and  “ The  Huguenot.”  He  also  made 
one  or  more  copies  of  “ The  Ransom,”  “ My  First  Sermon,” 

“ My  Second  Sermon,”  “ The  Minuet,”  “ The  Vale  of  Rest,” 


i860]  A HOLIDAY  361 

“ Sir  Isumbras,”  and  “ Swallow,  Swallow,  Flying  South,” 
nearly  all  of  which  were  bought  by  either  Gambart  or 
Agnew.  Indeed,  if  a complete  collection  of  his  water- 
colour and  black-and-white  works  at  this  period  could  be  got 
together,  they  would  make,  I venture  to  think,  almost  as 
interesting  an  exhibition  as  that  of  1S97,  in  which  scarcely 
one  of  them  was  included. 

In  i860  he  took  the  shooting  of  Kincraig,  Inverness-shire, 


OLD  WALL  OF  BALHOUSIE  CASTLE,  PERTH 
Used  by  Millais  in  his  background  of  “ James’  Love  ” 


along  with  his  friend  Colonel  Aitkin,  and  after  some  hesita- 
tion (as  expressed  in  the  following  letter  to  his  wife)  he  threw 
aside  his  work  in  the  month  of  August,  and  hastened  to  join 
his  friend  in  the  North. 

“ August  1 7///,  i860.  — I write  this  amongst  a great  gather- 
ing of  men  and  ladies,  one  of  whom  is  at  this  moment 
singing  most  beautifully.  Mr.  Mitchell  (the  clergyman  who 
married  William)  is  here,  and  Arnold  and  his  wife.  Miss 
Power  is  also  here,  and  sings  charmingly.  Mrs.  Cobb,  too, 


362  JOHN  EVERETT  MILLAIS  [1861 

ancl  her  husband,  in  rifle-corps  uniform,  fresh  from  drill.  The 
ladies  are  all  working  at  needlework  whilst  the  music  is  going 
on,  and  as  I cannot  talk  I employ  myself  in  writing.  Arthur 
Coleridge  brought  his  wife  here  this  afternoon,  and  she 
appears  to  be  quite  charming. 

“ I have  just  received  yours,  enclosing  Aitkin’s  letter. 
I don’t  know  but  what  I may  yet  come  straight  up  to  the 
shooting,  and  bring  the  copy  I am  working  at,  as  I can 
finish  it  anywhere  for  the  matter  of  that.  I don’t  mean  to 
say  I would  paint  at  the  shooting-lodge,  but  would  finish  it 
afterwards  at  Bowers  well.  I feel  certain  that  no  other  man 
in  my  position  would  neglect  his  holiday;  so,  instead  of 
grinding  on,  I shall  have  a fling  at  that  place.  The  house 
appears  roomy,  and  you  could  go  with  me.  I am  sick  of 
hearing  of  everybody  going  to  his  shooting.  No  one  would 
enjoy  it  more  than  I,  instead  of  having  to  stick  to  this 
beastly  copying  [‘The  Black  Brunswicker ’].  ...  I feel 
a good  deal  better  to-day,  hearing  of  the  sport  that  Aitkin 
is  having.  Please  send  me  the  ‘ Framley  ’ manuscript,  as  I 
want  to  get  all  these  drawings  done  and  out  of  my  hands.” 

He  took  his  holiday,  and  then,  returning  to  Bowerswell,  he 
worked  hard  at  “The  Poacher’s  Wife”  and  “ The  Ransom,” 
and  in  the  spring  of  1861  he  went  back  to  town,  where  he 
had  engaged  rooms  at  130  Piccadilly,  with  a studio  attached. 
From  there  he  wrote  to  my  mother  : — 

“ Afay  27th,  1861.  — I am  sorry  to  hear  that  your  mother 
is  so  ill.  . . . Monckton  Milnes  came  just  now  with  a friend. 
He  was  charmed  with  the  picture  [‘  The  Ransom  ’],  and  says 
that  Stirling,  of  Iveir,  should  have  it ; he  himself  is  so 
enchanted  with  it  that  he  will  probably  have  it  himself. 
I had  a very  pleasant  dinner  at  the  Leslies’,  Lady  Water- 
ford, Lady  Mills,  and  many  others  there.  On  Wednesday 
I go  to  Epsom,  to  see  the  Derby,  with  Joseph  Jopling  [an 
artist  and  intimate  friend]. 

“ On  Saturday  I went  to  Tattersall’s,  to  see  the  betting- 
room  and  paddock,  where  I saw,  among  others,  some  friends 

of  yours.  Young  S [a  boy  from  Perth,  who  had  just 

come  into  a little  money],  with  his  betting-book  in  his  hand, 
was  quite  surprised  to  see  me  there  and,  I thought,  dis- 
concerted, by  the  way  he  hurried  off.  Poor  young  fool,  he 
will  certainly  bring  about  a speedy  smash  in  such  society 

as  I saw  him  — being  with  Lord  S , men  with  millions, 

and  the  sharpest  rogues  in  the  world. 


i86i] 


RETURNS  TO  TOWN 


363 

“Jopling  is  staying  with  friends  in  the  country,  so  I do 
not  see  much  of  him.  I am  alone  here  all  day,  and  only 
occasionally  disturbed  by  callers.  . . . Yesterday  I went  to 
Thackeray’s  house  at  Kensington,  and  it  is  beautiful ; and 
in  the  evening,  after  the  Leslies,  1 went  to  the  Cosmopolitan, 
and  got  home  very,  very  late  — or  rather  early.  Fortunately, 
with  all  this  dining  out,  I feel  in  the  best  of  condition  and 
spirits.” 

He  had  now  bought  No.  7 Cornwall  Place,  South  Ken- 
sington, which,  when  remodelled  under  the  direction  of  his 
architect,  Mr.  Freake,  he  used  as  the  town  house  of  himself 
and  his  family  from  the  winter  of  1S62  to  1878,  when  they 
finally  took  possession  of  the  large  house  that  he  built  at 
Palace  Gate. 

“ May  28///,  1861.  — Sir  Coutts  Lindsay,  Lady  Somers, 
and  Mrs.  Dalrymple  have  just  been  here,  and  were  in 
ecstasies  about  the  picture.  Although  I ask  a big  price 
for  it,  which  the  dealers  are  trying  to  beat  down,  1 shall 
not  give  way  an  inch,  as  they  are  certain  to  resell  it  imme- 
diately to  some  nobleman’s  collection,  and  make  an  immense 
profit  by  it.  Last  evening  I dined  with  Lord  Lansdowne. 
We  had  a delightful  dinner:  everything  most  magnificent. 
The  beautiful  Lady  Waterford  was  there,  and  I had  a long 
talk  with  her.  She  is  rather  handsomer  than  when  I saw 
her  seven  years  ago  — a little  stouter,  and  certainly  the  noblest- 
looking  woman  I ever  saw.  She  is  coming  to  see  my  picture, 
but  returns  to  her  castle  in  Northumberland  immediately. 
She  asked  after  you.  General  Hamilton,  too,  who  dined 
with  us  in  York  Terrace,  was  there. 

“ I went  afterwards  to  Captain  Murray’s,  and  to  the 
Alhambra  to  see  Leotard,  a French  gymnast,  who  dies 
through  the  air  from  swinging  ropes  — very  extraordinary. 
To-morrow  is  the  Derby,  and  to-day  I have  been  working 
most  successfully,  having  nearly  finished  the  other  illustra- 
tion for  Hurst  and  Blackett  — one  of  the  ‘ Orley  Farm’ 
ones  — and  the  fourth  one  for  Mr.  Plint.  My  model,  Miss 
Beale,  was  sitting  until  Sir  Coutts  Lindsay  and  his  party 
came,  and  held  in  her  arms  a baby,  which  I had  borrowed ! 
I have  heard  nothing  from  Freake;  but  the  studio  is  pro- 
gressing. 

11  Dalziel  was  here  yesterday,  and  very  anxious  to  get  me 
to  finish  the  drawings  of  the  parables  by  next  year  for  the 
great  exhibition,  and  I of  course  promised  to  do  my  best.” 


364  JOHN  EVERETT  MILLAIS  [1861 

“ May  30 th.  — Yesterday  morning,  before  going  to  the 
Derby,  I called  to  see  Lady  Waterford  and  her  drawings. 
She  was  so  pleased,  I think,  for  I found  her  drawings 
magnificent,  so  I could  praise  honestly.  She  was  very  kind 
and  nice,  and  begged  particularly  to  be  remembered  to  you. 
“Yesterday  at  the  Derby  was  the  usual  crowd  and  dust; 


WATER-COLOUR  DESIGN  FOR  “THE  RANSOM.”  1862 

but  I only  got  a small  headache  this  time,  and  slept  it 
off  in  an  hour  or  so,  after  which  I got  up  and  went  to 
Lewis’s  Club,  where  he  gave  Jopling  and  myself  something 
to  eat.  After  that  we  went  to  Cremorne.  One  striking 
fact  which  greatly  astonished  me  was  the  absence  of  in- 
toxication. I never  saw  one  man  or  woman  drunk  the 
whole  day,  and  must  have  passed  thousands  upon  thousands 
of  people;  nor  did  1 see  a single  row  either  at  the  race- 


i86i] 


“THE  RANSOM” 


365 

course  or  the  gardens,  to  which  almost  the  whole  company 
came  straight  from  the  course.  The  gardens  were  beau- 
tifully lit  up  with  thousands  of  lamps,  and  the  night  was 
warm  and  lovely.  Then  there  was  dancing  on  the  green- 
sward— of  course,  amongst  a certain  class.  Two  splendid 
bands  of  music,  and  eating  and  drinking  in  every  direction  ; 
yet  not  a single  person  drunk.  I am  very  fresh  this  morning, 
and  going  on  with  the  ‘ Orley  Farm  ’ illustrations.  Jopling, 
too,  is  up,  and  beautiful  in  summer  array.  Last  night,  of 
course,  I saw  everybody,  from  every  place  I know — Perth 
men  from  their  regiments,  Stirling  of  Keir,  Monckton 
Milnes,  Leech,  Thackeray,  William,  Jue  (his  wife),  and  the 
Hoares.  . . . 

“ This  evening  I spend  quietly  with  Dalziel,  to  look  over 
proofs  and  talk  the  parables  over,  and  on  Saturday  I 
have  promised  to  go  to  Kingston  and  see  my  people,  and 
perhaps  row  up  the  river,  as  they  propose  a picnic.” 

“ June  6th,  1S61.  — Flint  has  just  been  here  and  bought 
the  picture  of  Mrs.  Aitkin  and  John  Lindsay,  and  I have 
promised  to  paint  a small  oil  for  him  of  Lucy  Roberts. 

Flint  gave  X ^1150  for  ‘The  Black  Brunswicker,’  * 

and  some  time  ago  gave  him  ^1000  for  ‘The  Royalist.’ 

So  much  for  X telling  me  that  he  had  lost  by  me  ! Now, 

when  he  comes,  I will  say  nothing  to  lead  him  to  suppose 
that  I know  all  about  it;  but  it  puts  me  on  my  guard  for  the 
future.” 

“ The  Ransom,”  however  (his  big  picture),  was  not  sold  ; 
so  he  went  to  Bowerswell  at  the  beginning  of  August,  and 
had  some  pleasant  days,  trout-fishing  at  Loch  Leven  with 
Leech  and  John  Anderson,  the  minister  of  Kinnoull. 

Before  closing  this  chapter  it  is  necessary  to  say  a few 
words  about  “ The  Ransom  ” and  its  subsequent  history. 
Commenced  with  “Trust  Me”  in  the  autumn  of  i860,  the 
picture  was  not  completed  till  the  spring  of  1862.  The 
subject  is  that  of  the  detention  of  two  maidens  who  had  been 
captured  during  the  Middle  Ages.  The  girls  are  seen  in  the 
act  of  returning  to  their  father,  a black-bearded  knight,  who 
in  turn  has  to  present  gold  and  gems  for  their  release.  The 
costumes  in  this  picture  were  most  carefully  studied.  “ Most 
of  them,”  says  my  mother,  “ were  made  by  me,  and  I designed 
them  from  a book  on  costume  lent  by  Lady  Eastlake.”  She 

* When  first  sold  to  a dealer  “ The  Black  Brunswicker”  fetched  £Si6.  In 
May,  1898,  it  was  sold  by  the  executors  of  the  late  James  Renton  for  £2,650. 


366  JOHN  EVERETT  MILLAIS  [1861 

then  gives  a few  particulars  as  to  the  background  and  models. 
“ The  tapestry  was  the  last  part  which  was  painted.  It  was 
done  in  the  unfinished  portion  of  the  South  Kensington 
Museum,  where  Mr.  Smith,  the  decorator,  hung  it  in  position 
for  the  artist.  Millais  had  great  trouble  with  the  knight. 
The  head  was  taken  from  his  friend  Major  Boothby,  who 
gave  him  many  sittings  ; but  at  the  last  moment  he  con- 
sidered the  expression  unsuitable,  and  so  called  in  the  services 
of  a Mr.  Miller.  The  figure  of  the  knight  he  drew  from 
a gigantic  railway  guard,  appropriately  named  ‘ Strong,’  who 
was  afterwards  crushed  to  death  in  Perth  Station.  The  page 
was  a handsome  youth  named  Reid,  and  Major  McBean, 
92nd  Highlanders,  and  a labourer  sat  for  the  guards.  Both 
the  girls  were  painted  from  one  model,  Miss  Helen  Petrie.” 


CHAPTER  X 


1S61-1S67 


A holiday  in  Sutherlandshire  — “ The  Eve  of  St.  Agnes  ” — Comfortless  surround- 
ings — Death  of  Thackeray  — His  funeral  — “ My  First  Sermon  ” — Pictures  of 
1S63 — Paints  Tom  Taylor’s  son — Letter  from  Tom  Taylor  — “Esther”  — 
Gordon’s  yellow  jacket  — “ The  Romans  Leaving  Britain  ’’  — Letter  from  Anne 
Thackeray  Ritchie — -“Waking”  — In  Scotland  with  Sir  William  Harcourt  and 
Mr.  Reginald  Cholmondeley — -Meeting  with  Dr.  Livingstone  — Livingstone  in 
pursuit  of  salmon — Millais  goes  abroad  with  his  wife,  Sir  William  Harcourt, 
and  Sir  Henry  Layard — He  buys  Michael  Angelo’s  “ Leda  and  the  Swan”  — 
Memorable  evening  at  “Villa  Spence”  — Adelina  Patti  as  a dancer — Makes 
the  acquaintance  of  Liszt— They  travel  with  Mario  — “Waking”  — The 
Callender  shootings  — Amusing  letter  from  Sir  William  Harcourt  — Letter  to 
William  Fenn  — A deer  drive  in  Glen  Artney. 


HE  autumn  of  1S61  was  spent  in  Sutherlandshire, 


where,  as  I gather  from  his  letters,  Millais  found  great 
enjoyment,  while  fishing  and  shooting  along  with  his  friend 
“ Mike  ” Halliday.  In  August  of  that  year  they  were  staying 
at  Lairg,  from  which  he  writes  to  my  mother  : — 

“ We  dined  on  Sunday  at  Rose  Hall,  and  enjoyed  it 
immensely;  they  were  so  kind.  Lord  and  Lady  Delamere 
were  there,  and  he  is  a capital  fellow.  In  the  evening,  after 
dinner,  we  drew  blindfolded  several  subjects,  and  the  result 
was  absurd,  as  you  may  imagine.  We  dine  here  again  next 
Sunday.  Both  Holford  and  his  wife  were  most  kind,  and 
expressed  great  regret  that  they  could  not  give  us  beds. 
Yesterday  Mike  and  I shot  all  the  day,  but  the  ground  is 
very  inferior  to  Kincraig.  Poor  little  man,  he  could  n’t  walk 
the  hillsides,  and  was  done  up  so  completely  that  he  could  n’t 
shoot  a bit.  Halliday  only  shot  three  brace,  which  made  in 
all  seventeen  brace  and  a half,  all  of  which , by  Mr.  Holford ’s 
orders,  is  left  to  us.  I send  away  a box  to  you,  and  another 
to  Kingston.” 

In  another  letter  he  says  : — 

“ I am  almost  sorry  I sent  you  the  grilse  yesterday,  for  I 
killed  a fine  salmon  this  morning,  10  lbs.  weight.  I hooked 


368  JOHN  EVERETT  MILLAIS  [1862 

it  when  far  away  from  anyone,  and  had  the  fish  on  for  more 
than  half  an  hour  without  being  able  to  make  anybody  hear 
my  shouting.  At  last  Mike  caught  sight  of  me  waving  my 
bonnet,  and  came  to  my  assistance  with  the  gaff,  and  after 
playing  the  fish  until  it  was  quite  done,  he  succeeded  in 
securing  it.  It  was  a beautiful  clean  salmon  (not  grilse)  just 
up  from  the  salt  water.  It  struggled  awfully,  and  took  me 
down  the  river  in  the  most  gallant  way.  We  have  just 
returned  from  dining  with  the  Holfords,  who  are  indefati- 
gable in  their  kindness  and  attention.  I never  experienced 
such  unaffected  kindness,  and  Mike  finds  the  same.  Poor 
little  chap,  he  has  n’t  even  risen  a fish  at  all  yet,  except 
trout.” 

The  letter  winds  up  with  an  injunction  to  practise  croquet, 
which  was  all  the  rage  just  then. 

The  later  autumn  days  and  the  following  winter  were 
mainly  devoted  to  painting  “ The  Woman  Looking  for  the  Lost 
Piece  of  Money”  — showing  a female  figure  in  the  moonlight 
holding  a lighted  candle,  with  which  she  searches  the  floor. 
The  picture  unhappily  came  to  an  untimely  end,  but  an 
engraving  of  it  (made  before  it  left  the  artist’s  hands)  gives 
some  idea  of  the  striking  effects  of  mingled  moonlight  and 
candle-light  as  depicted.  In  1S62  Millais  gave  the  picture  to 
Baron  Marochetti  in  exchange  for  a marble  bust  of  my 
mother  by  this  famous  sculptor,  and  one  day  the  gas  meter 
in  the  Baron’s  house  in  Onslow  Square  exploded,  and  the 
picture  (frame  and  all)  was  shot  through  the  window  into  the 
street,  and  completely  destroyed. 

During  the  spring  of  1S62  he  was  hard  at  work  on  a 
portrait  of  Mr.  Puxley,  a hunting  squire,  and  the  little  picture 
of  “ The  White  Cockade,”  in  which  a Highland  lady  is  seen 
attaching  the  white  badge  of  the  Jacobites  to  her  lover’s 
cocked  hat.  My  mother  sat  for  this  picture,  and  an  excellent 
portrait  of  her  at  that  time  is  preserved  there.  A Scotch 
friend,  hearing  by  chance  of  the  subject  of  the  painting,  was 
good  enough  to  present  her  with  one  of  the  original  cockades 
worn  in  the  bonnets  of  Prince  Charlie’s  followers  — a badge 
now  extremely  rare. 

The  summer  of  this  year  was  an  exceedingly  busy  one  for 
the  artist.  He  did  an  immense  quantity  of  work  for  London 
Society , Messrs.  Smith,  Elder,  and  Co.,  Macmillan,  Chapman 
and  Hall,  Sampson  Low  and  Co.,  Dalziel,  and  Bradbury  and 
Evans,  and  something  too  for  the  Illustrated  London  News. 


“ SWALLOW  ! SWALLOW  ! ” 1864 

From  the  water-colour  in  possession  of  Mrs.  Stibbard 
By  Jerviission  0/  Sir  John  Kelk 


\ 


FISHING  AND  SHOOTING 


371 


1S62] 

In  the  Academy  he  exhibited  “ The  Ransom  ” (sometimes 
called  “The  Hostage  “ Trust  Me,”  “The  Parable  of  the 
Lost  Piece  of  Money,”  and  “ Mrs.  Charles  Freeman.”  And, 
as  a joyful  prelude  to  his  autumn  holiday,  another  little  olive- 
branch  appeared  on  the  scene  in  the  person  of  my  sister 
Carrie  (now  Mrs.  Stuart-Wortley). 

August  was  now  at  hand,  and  with  a light  heart  he  fled 
away  to  his  beloved  Scotland,  where  he  had  taken  care  to 
secure  beforehand  what  promised  to  afford  excellent  sport. 
First  of  all  he  went  to  the  Helmsdale,  the  fishing  of  which 
he  and  his  friend,  Colonel  Cholmondeley,  had  taken  for 
that  month.  There,  however,  the  fates  favoured  the  fish 
rather  than  the  fishermen,  and  at  the  end  of  the  month 
he  moved  on  to  Inveran  Inn,  near  Tain,  where  Mike 
Halliday  and  he  had  part  of  the  river  Shin  for  the  month  of 
September.  Here  another  disappointment  awaited  him  as  to 
the  fishing;  but  his  letters  show  that  in  other  respects  the 
holiday  was  an  enjoyable  one.  Writing  to  my  mother  on 
September  2nd,  he  says:  — 

“ I arrived  here  yesterday  morning  at  half-past  five,  and 
travelled  all  night,  never  getting  a wink  of  sleep.  However, 
when  I had  had  a tub  I felt  all  right.  There  was  no 
bed  for  me  anyhow.  Brandreth  was  here,  and  left  this 
morning  with  his  wife,  who  came  up  from  Dunrobin.  He 
is  a most  kind  fellow  — took  me  out  shooting  all  yesterday, 
and  the  result  will  come  to  you  in  the  shape  of  a box 
of  grouse.  Mike  took  Mr.  B.’s  gun  in  the  evening,  and 
we  got  ten  more  brace,  which  made  it  a good  day.  Mr.  B. 
has  given  me  all  his  part  of  the  river  to  fish  in,  besides  the 
right  to  shoot  with  Mike  on  a moor  fifteen  or  sixteen  miles 
away  from  here;  also  to  take  three  days  on  the  moor 
immediately  adjoining  this  inn,  where  we  killed  the  birds 
yesterday.  It  is  very  fortunate,  as  the  fishing  is  very  bad 
this  year.  I went  out  last  evening,  after  the  shooting,  and 
only  rose  one  fish.  . . . The  Cholmondeleys  were  very  sorry 
at  my  leaving,  and  were  most  kind.  You  may  expect  to  see 
him  in  Perth  about  the  15th.  Brandreth  also  gave  me  a 
magnificent  salmon-rod  — insisted  on  my  taking  it — -and 
supplied  us  with  a lot  of  lights  and  tobacco.  Leech  is 
not  here  yet.  Have  you  heard  of  him  ? The  river  is  too 
low  here  now,  strange  to  say,  and  last  year  it  was  too 
high.” 

Towards  the  end  of  the  season  he  took  up  his  quarters  at 


372 


JOHN  EVERETT  MILLAIS  [,8& 

Bowerswell ; and  with  a view  to  the  well-known  picture, 
“My  First  Sermon,”  my  sister  Effie,  then  a child  of  five 
years,  was  selected  as  the  model.  She  also  sat  two  years 
later  for  the  companion  picture  of  “ My  Second  Sermon,” 
and  from  that  time  onwards  all  the  children  in  turn  were 
enlisted  as  models  for  different  pictures. 

Later  on  in  the  autumn  of  1862  some  lines  in  Keats’ 
beautiful  poem,  “ The  Eve  of  St.  Agnes,”  caught  the  fancy 
of  the  artist,  inviting  him  to  illustrate  them  on  canvas;  and 
this  he  determined  to  do  at  once. 

“ Full  on  this  casement  shone  the  wintry  moon, 

And  threw  warm  gules  on  Madeline’s  fair  breast. 

* * * * 

Of  all  its  wreathed  pearls  her  hair  she  frees ; 

Unclasps  her  warmed  jewels  one  by  one  ; 

Loosens  her  fragrant  bodice  ; by  degrees 
Her  rich  attire  creeps  rustling  to  her  knees  : 

Half-hidden,  like  a mermaid  in  seaweed, 

Pensive  awhile  she  dreams  awake,  and  sees 
In  fancy  fair  St.  Agnes  in  her  bed. 

But  dares  not  look  behind,  or  all  the  charm  is  fled.” 

But  where  was  a suitable  background  to  be  found?  The 

o 

picture,  as  conceived  by  the  artist,  demanded  an  interior 
such  as  was  not  to  be  seen  in  Scotland,  so  far  as  he  knew; 
but  in  the  historic  mansion  of  Knole  Park  was  a room  well 
known  to  him,  and  exactly  suited  to  his  purpose.  So,  coming 
South  rather  earlier  than  usual  this  year,  he  and  my  mother 
betook  themselves  to  Sevenoaks,  where,  at  a wayside  hostelry, 
they  remained  throughout  December. 

Knole  was  close  by  — a large  house  tenanted  by  an  old 
caretaker  — and,  except  the  floor  (then  covered  with  modern 
parquetry),  this  wonderful  old  room  had  undergone  no 
change  whatever  since  the  time  of  James  I.  The  old 
furniture  and  fittings  of  solid  silver  were  still  there,  the  same 
old  tapestry  adorned  the  walls,  and  a death-like  stillness 
pervaded  the  apartment  — “a  silence  that  might  be  felt” 
at  the  midnight  hour  when  the  moonlight  was  streaming 
in  through  the  window  and  no  fire  was  burning  on  the 
hearth.  And  yet  that  was  the  time  when  the  picture  must 
be  painted  — that  and  a few  hours  later  — otherwise  the  exact 
direction  of  the  moonbeams  falling  on  the  figure  could  not 
be  caught.  No  wonder,  then,  that  my  father,  though  by 

no  means  a nervous  man,  was  sensible  of  a high  state  of 


“THE  EVE  OF  ST.  AGNES” 


373 


1862] 

tension  while  sitting  at  his  work  for  three  nights  in  succes- 
sion amidst  such  weird  and  comfortless  surroundings.  My 
mother,  too — for  she  it  was  who  sat  for  the  figure  — was 
similarly  affected,  while  her  discomfort  during  those  weary 
hours  may  be  readily  imagined.  Think  of  the  slender 
garments  in  which  the  figure  is  draped,  the  bodice  unlaced, 
the  room  unheated;  and  this  in  the  depth  of  winter!  No 
wonder  that  she  was  accustomed  to  speak  of  it  afterwards 
as  the  severest  task  she  ever  under- 
took. But  the  reward  came  at  last, 
making  amends  for  all  it  cost  to  win 
it.  The  painter  caught  the  spirit  of 
the  poet,  and  embodied  it  in  his 
canvas.  The  finishing  touches  were 
done  at  Cromwell  Place,*  with  the 
aid  of  a professional  model,  Miss 
Ford. 

“ This  picture  was  marvellously 
quickly  executed.  After  three  days 
and  a half  at  Knole  and  two  days 
more  at  home,  the  work  was  com- 
plete, and  highly  finished.  The 
magnificent  bed  represented  was 
that  in  which  King  James  I.  slept. 

It  cost  ^3000,  and  the  coverlet 
was  a mass  of  gold  thread  and 
silver  applique  gimp  and  lace;  the 
sheets  were  white  silk,  and  the  mattresses  of  padded  cotton 
wool. 

“ Millais’  fingers  got  numb  with  the  cold,  but  there  was  no 
time  to  be  lost,  as  the  private  view  day  was  drawing  near. 
When  we  sot  back  from  Knole  the  figure  of  Madeline  had 
to  be  altered  ; and  when  the  work  was  exhibited  the  public 
thought  the  woman  ugly,  thin,  and  stiff.  ‘ I cannot  bear  that 
woman  with  the  gridiron,’  said  Frank  Grant  (Sir  Francis 
Grant,  p.  r.  a.),  alluding  to  the  vivid  streams  of  moonlight  on 
the  floor;  and  Tom  Taylor  said,  ‘Where  on  earth  did  you 
get  that  scraggy  model,  Millais  ? ’ ” 


My  mother  says  in  her  note 


* Millais  lit  up  his  canvas  with  a bull’s-eye  lantern  when  painting  this  subject 
in  London.  He  found  that  the  light  from  even  a full  moon  was  not  strong 
enough  to  throw,  through  a stained  glass  window,  perceptible  colour  on  any 
object,  as  Keats  had  supposed  and  described  in  his  poem. 


374  JOHN  EVERETT  MILLAIS  [1863 

The  picture,  after  passing  successively  through  the  hands 
of  Mr,  Charles  Lucas  and  Mr.  Leyland,  is  now  in  the 
possession  of  Mr.  Val  Prinsep,  r.a.  It  was  seen  by  Art 
lovers  on  the  walls  of  South  Kensington,  and  was  amongst 
the  works  in  the  recent  “ Millais  Exhibition  ” at  Burlino;ton 
House. 

An  appreciative  letter  from  Val  Prinsep  is  of  interest  as 
showing  what  artists  thought  of  this  work.  Writing  to 
Millais  he  says  : — 

“ It  was  a great  pleasure  to  me,  my  dear  old  chap,  to  be 
able  to  purchase  your  picture.  There  is  not  an  artist  who 
has  failed  to  urge  me  to  do  so.  For  the  profession’s  sake  I 
am  glad  your  picture  is  in  the  hands  of  one  of  the  craft,  for 
it  is  essentially  a painter’s  picture.  After  all,  what  do  the 
public  and  the  critics  know  about  the  matter?  Nothing! 
The  worst  is,  they  think  they  do,  and  hence  comes  the 
success  of  many  a commonplace  work  and  the  comparative 
neglect  of  what  is  full  of  genius.  I ’ve  got  the  genius  bit, 
and  am  delighted.  Yours  ever, 

“ Val  Prinsep.” 

No  sooner  was  it  finished  than,  in  execution  of  a com- 
mission from  Mr.  Marley,  of  Regent’s  Park,  the  artist  set 
to  work  on  a portrait  of  Mr.  Henry  Manners,  now  Marquis 
of  Granby.  Other  pictures,  too,  followed  in  quick  succession, 
notably  “ Suspense,”  “ The  Bridesmaid  throwing  the  Lucky 
Slipper,”  and  “ The  Wolf's  Den,”  the  last-named  showing 
portraits  of  all  the  artist’s  elder  children. 

For  the  rest,  the  year  (1S63)  was  one  of  mingled  joy  and 
sorrow.  In  September  my  brother  Geoffroy  was  born;  but 
a few  months  later  the  sudden  death  of  Thackeray,  the 
bright  and  genial  novelist,  cast  a deep  gloom  over  the 
household,  both  my  father  and  mother  being  devotedly 
attached  to  him.  They  had  noticed  with  distress  his  failing 
health  and  loss  of  appetite,  when  dining  with  them  shortly 
before  their  annual  migration  to  the  North  ; but  neither  of 
them  ever  dreamt  that  this  was  the  last  time  that  they  and 
he  would  meet.  In  a letter  to  my  mother  on  Christmas 
Day  my  father  wrote  : — 

“ I am  sure  you  will  be  dreadfully  shocked,  as  I was,  at 
the  loss  of  poor  Thackeray.  I imagine,  and  hope  truly, 
you  will  have  heard  of  it  before  this  reaches  you.  He  was 
found  dead  by  his  servant  in  the  morning,  and  of  course  the 


By  per  mission  of  Mr,  Valentine  P rinse p , R.A,  • 


1 863] 


DEATH  OF  THACKERAY 


377 


whole  house  is  in  a state  of  the  utmost  confusion  and  pain. 
They  first  sent  to  Charlie  Collins  and  his  wife,  who  went 
immediately,  and  have  been  almost  constantly  there  ever 
since.  I sent  this  morning  to  know  how  the  mother  and 
girls  were,  and  called  myself  this  afternoon ; and  they  are 
suffering  terribly,  as  you  might  expect.  He  was  found  lying 
back,  with  his  arms  over  his  head,  as  though  in  great  pain. 
I shall  hear  more,  of  course.  Everyone  I meet  is  affected 
by  his  death.  Nothing  else  is  spoken  of.” 

And  again,  three  days  later:  — 

■“  I go  to-morrow  with  Walker,  Prinsep,  and  Theodore 
Martin,  to  poor  Thackeray’s  funeral  — Ivensal  Green  Ceme- 
tery; half-past  twelve.  I send  every  day  to  ask  after  the 
mother  and  girls.  They  are  dreadfully  broken  by  the 
death. 

“ My  model  is  waiting,  so  I must  leave  off  now.  I made 
a beautiful  little  drawing  of  Lady  Edwards’  baby  lying  in  the 
bassinet.  Of  course  I had  to  idealise  somewhat,  as  there 
was  a look  of  pain  in  the  face. 

“ I had  five  men  dining  with  me  last  nigdit,  and  the 
conversation  was  entirely  about  the  loss  we  have  all  sus- 
tained. Cayley,  Doyle,  Prinsep,  Martineau,  and  Jopling 
were  the  party.” 

In  another  letter,  on  December  31st,  he  added:  — 

“ I went  yesterday  to  the  funeral,  in  Theodore  Martin’s 
carriage.  It  was  a mournful  scene,  and  badly  managed.  A 
crowd  of  women  were  there  — from  curiosity,  1 suppose  — 
dressed  in  all  colours ; and  round  the  grave  scarlet  and 
blue  feathers  shone  out  prominently!  Indeed,  the  true 
mourners  and  friends  could  not  get  near,  and  intimate 
friends  who  were  present  had  to  be  hustled  into  their  places 
during  the  ceremony  of  interment.  We  all,  of  course, 
followed  from  the  chapel,  and  by  that  time  the  grave  was 
surrounded.  There  was  a great  lack  of  what  is  called 
‘ high  society,’  which  I was  surprised  at.  None  of  that 
class,  of  whom  he  knew  so  many,  were  present.  The 
painters  were  nearly  all  there  — more  even  than  the  literary 
men.  The  review  of  his  life  and  works  you  sent  me  is 
quite  beautiful  — just  what  it  ought  to  be  — I suppose  by  Dr. 
John  Brown,  who  was  a great  friend.” 

“ My  First  Sermon  ” was  exhibited  this  year  in  the 
Academy,  and  at  the  Academy  bancjuet  on  May  3rd,  when 
(according  to  a newspaper  report  now  before  me)  the 


JOHN  EVERETT  MILLAIS 


[1864 


378 

Archbishop  of  Canterbury,  in  a graceful  speech,  referred  to 
it  as  follows  : — 

“Still,  Art  has,  and  ever  will  have,  a high  and  noble 
mission  to  fulfil.  That  man,  I think,  is  little  to  be  envied 
who  can  pass  through  these  rooms  and  go  forth  without 
being  in  some  sense  a better  and  a happier'  man ; if  at 
least  it  be  so  (as  I do  believe  it  to  be)  that  we  feel  our- 
selves the  better  and  the  happier  when  our  hearts  are 
enlarged  as  we  sympathise  with  the  joys  and  the  sorrows 
of  our  fellow-men,  faithfully  delineated  on  the  canvas  ; when 
our  spirits  are  touched  by  the  playfulness,  the  innocence,  the 
purity,  and  may  I not  add  (pointing  to  Millais’  picture  of 
‘ My  First  Sermon  ’)  the  piety  of  childhood.” 

This  little  picture  of  Effie*  was  extremely  popular.  The 
artist  himself  was  so  pleased  with  it  that,  before  going  North 
in  August  of  that  year,  he  made  an  oil  copy  of  it,  doing  the 
work  from  start  to  finish  in  two  days!  A truly  marvellous 
achievement,  considering  that  the  copy  displayed  almost  the 
same  high  finish  as  the  original ; but  in  those  two  days  he 
worked  incessantly  from  morning  to  night,  never  even  break- 
ing off  for  lunch  in  the  middle  of  the  day.  Well  might  he 
say,  as  he  did  in  a letter  to  my  mother,  “ I never  did  any- 
thing in  my  life  so  well  or  so  quickly.”  The  copy  was  sold 
as  soon  as  it  was  finished,  and  I see  from  an  entry  in  my 
mother’s  book  that  he  received  £1  So  for  it. 

H e was  now,  so  far  as  I can  judge,  at  the  summit  of  his 
powers  in  point  of  both  physical  strength  and  technical  skill, 
the  force  and  rapidity  of  his  execution  being  simply  amazing. 

Leaving  my  mother  at  Bowerswell  early  in  January,  1864, 
he  returned  to  town,  where,  soon  after  his  arrival,  John 
Leech  came  to  see  him.  As  an  old  and  intimate  friend  of 
Thackeray,  Leech  was  distressed  beyond  measure  by  his 
death.  He  should  never  get  over  it,  he  said  ; and  a month 
or  two  later  his  words  gained  a painful  significance  by  his 
own  death  from  heart  disease.  My  father  was  constantly  with 
him  during  the  last  stage  of  this  terrible  complaint,  and  never 
ceased  to  lament  the  loss  of  his  old  friend  and  companion. 

This  year  proved  to  be  most  prolific  of  all  in  point  of  work. 
Writing  to  my  mother  on  January  13th,  he  said  : — 

“ I will  come  and  look  out  for  a background  for  ‘ Moses.’ 

* “ My  First  ” and  “ My  Second  Sermon  ” were  both  painted  in  the  old  church 
at  Kingston-on-Thames,  where  Millais’  parents  resided.  The  old  high-backed 
pews  had  not  then  been  removed. 


“MY  SECOND  SERMON” 


379 


1864] 

I am  just  going  to  begin  Effie  sleeping  in  the  pew.  It  is 
very  dark,  but  enough  light  for  drawing.  Have  done  both 
‘Arabian  Nights’  drawings,  and  another  (two  since  you  left) 
illustration  for  Good  Words.  I missed  my  train  to  Trollope 
on  Sunday,  and  had  to  take  a hansom  all  the  way  to 
Waltham — two  hours  there,  and  two  back,  but  I got  there 
in  time  for  dinner. 

“ Hablot  Brown  is  illustrating  his  new  serial.  Chapman  is 
publishing  it,  and  he  is  not  pleased  with  the  illustrating,  and 
proposed  to  me  to  take  it  off  his  hands,  but  I declined. 
Messrs.  C.  and  H.  gave  him  so  much  more  for  his  novel  that 
they  wished  to  save  in  the  illustrations,  and  now  Trollope  is 
desirous  of  foregoing  his  extra  price  to  have  it  done  by  me.” 

“ Effie  sleeping  in  the  pew  " was,  as  indicated  above,  the 
subject  of  “ My  Second  Sermon,”  in  which,  the  novelty  of 
the  situation  having  worn  off,  the  child  is  seen  fast  asleep, 
being  overcome  by  the  heat  of  the  church,  and  probably  by 
the  soporific  influence  of  the  pulpit.  The  Archbishop  of 
Canterbury  referred  also  to  this  work  in  his  speech  at  the 
Academy  banquet  in  1865.  According  to  the  newspapers  of 
the  period  his  words  were  : — 

“ I would  say  for  myself  that  I always  desire  to  derive 
profit  as  well  as  pleasure  from  my  visits  to  these  rooms.  On 
the  present  occasion  I have  learnt  a very  wholesome  lesson, 
which  may  be  usefully  studied,  not  by  myself  alone,  but  by 
those  of  my  right  reverend  brethren  also  who  surround  me. 
I see  a little  lady  there  (pointing  to  Mr.  Millais’  picture  of  a 
child  asleep  in  church,  entitled  ‘ My  Second  Sermon  ’),  who, 
though  all  unconscious  whom  she  has  been  addressing,  and 
the  homily  she  has  been  reading  to  us  during  the  last  three 
hours,  has  in  truth,  by  the  eloquence  of  her  silent  slumber, 
given  us  a warning  of  the  evil  of  lengthy  sermons  and  drowsy 
discoiirses.  Sorry  indeed  should  I be  to  disturb  that  sweet 
and  peaceful  slumber,  but  I beg  that  when  she  does  awake 
she  may  be  informed  who  they  are  who  have  pointed  the 
moral  of  her  story,  have  drawn  the  true  inference  from  the 
change  that  has  passed  over  her  since  she  has  heard  her 
‘first  sermon,’  and  have  resolved  to  profit  by  the  lecture 
she  has  thus  delivered  to  them.” 

“Leisure  hours,”  a picture  combining  the  portraits  of 
Mr.  John  Pender’s  two  daughters,  was  next  taken  up.  Then 
came  “Charlie  is  My  Darling,”  a picture  for  which  Lady 
Pallisser  sat,  and  to  which  a little  romance  is  attached.  Whilst 


380  JOHN  EVERETT  MILLAIS  [1864 

Millais  was  at  work  on  this  picture  Sir  William  Pallisser 
visited  the  studio,  where  he  was  much  struck  with  the  face  of 
the  lady  as  portrayed.  He  begged  for  and  obtained  an 


“MY  SECOND  SERMON.”  1863 
By  permission  0/  H . Graves  and  Son 


introduction,  and  afterwards  falling  deeply  in  love  with  one 
another,  she  became  Lady  Pallisser.  That  work,  too,  was 
exhibited  this  year,  and  is  now  in  the  possession  of  an  old 
friend  of  my  father’s,  Mr.  James  Reiss.  An  illustration  in 


‘LEISURE  HOURS.”  1S64 


1864] 


THE  ZENITH  OF  HIS  POWER  383 

oils  of  Tennyson’s  charming  “Swallow,  Swallow,  Flying 
South,”  was  also  in  hand  now,  for  which  my  mother’s  sister, 
Alice  Gray  (now  Mrs.  Stibbard)  sat;  but  the  picture,  though 
finished  in  time  for  the  Academy,  was  not  exhibited  till  the 
following  year. 

A portrait  of  Harold,  son  of  the  Dowager  Countess  of 
Winchelsea,  was  also  painted  this  year,  and  satisfied  with  the 
work  already  done,  Millais  went  off  in  July  to  the  Helmsdale 
to  try  his  luck  once  more  as  a fisherman.  Of  his  life  there, 
and  the  sport  he  met  with,  I have  unfortunately  no  record, 
as,  my  mother  being  with  him,  no  letters  passed  between 
them. 

It  was  in  the  late  autumn  of  1S64  that  the  artist  completed 
an  excellent  portrait  of  Wyclif  Taylor,  son  of  his  friend  Tom 
Taylor,  of  Punch  fame  — a portrait  that  seems  to  have  given 
great  satisfaction  to  the  parents. 

From  Tom  Taylor. 

“ 8 Richmond  Terrace,  Whitehall,  S.  W., 

“ December  27th,  1864. 

“ My  dear  Millais,  — I cannot  allow  the  day  to  pass 
without  thanking  you  for  your  beautiful  portrait  of  our  boy. 
It  is  an  exquisite  picture  of  a child,  and  a perfect  likeness. 
Both  his  mother  and  myself  feel  that  you  have  given  us  a 
quite  inimitable  treasure,  which,  long  years  hence,  will  enable 
us  to  recall  what  our  boy  was  at  the  age  when  childhood  is 
loveliest  and  finest.  Should  we  lose  him  — which  Heaven 
avert  — the  picture  will  be  more  precious  still. 

“ It  seems  to  us  the  sweetest  picture  of  a child  even  you 
have  painted.  If  you  would  like  to  have  it  exhibited,  I need 
not  say  it  is  at  your  service  for  the  purpose. 

“ With  renewed  thanks,  and  all  the  best  wishes  of  the 
season  for  you  and  yours, 

“ Believe  me,  ever  gratefully  yours, 

“ Tom  Taylor. 

“ P.S.  — I send  you  my  Christmas  gift  in  return,  however 
inadequate.  The  . . . Ballad  Book,  which  owes  so  much  to 
your  pencil.” 

I have  suggested  that  in  point  of  technical  skill  Millais 
attained  the  zenith  of  his  power  in  1864,  but  the  fact  is  too 
plain  to  be  overlooked,  that  1865  marked  a distinct  advance 


384  JOHN  EVERETT  MILLAIS  [i36S 

in  the  direction  of  larger  and  more  important  pictures,  and 
greater  breadth  of  treatment.  His  first  picture  this  year  was 
“The  Evil  One  Sowing  Tares  ” ; and  then  came  “ Esther  ” 
and  “ The  Romans  Leaving  Britain,”  both  of  which  present 
a fulness  of  power  and  facility  of  expression  such  as  he  had 
never  before  displayed,  and  this  too  without  any  sacrifice  of 
the  high  finish  that  characterised  his  earlier  works.  In  these 
pictures  he  seems  to  have  accomplished  with  a single  dash  of 
the  brush  effects  that,  in  former  years,  he  attained  only  by 
hours  of  hard  work. 

Miss  Susan  Ann  Mackenzie,  sister  of  Sir  Alexander 
Mackenzie,  sat  for  the  principal  figure  in  “ Esther.” 

A lady  kindly  furnishes  me  with  the  following  note  : — 

“ The  robe  thrown  over  the  shoulders  of  ‘ Esther  ’ was 
General  Gordon's  ‘ Yellow  Jacket.'  * In  this  ‘ Yellow  Jacket  ’ 
General  Gordon  sat  to  Valentine  Prinsep,  r.a.,  for  the 
portrait  for  the  Royal  Engineers’  mess-room  at  Chatham. 
Millais  so  admired  this  splendid  piece  of  brocade  that  he 
dressed  Miss  Muir  Mackenzie  in  it,  but  turning  it  inside  out , 
so  as  to  have  broader  masses  of  colour.  With  her  fine  hair 
unbound,  and  a royal  crown  in  her  hand,  she  sat  for  ‘ Queen 
Esther.’  The  picture  was  bought  from  a dealer  by  my 
husband,  and  it  has  since  passed  to  Mr.  Alex.  Henderson 
with  the  rest  of  his  collection.” 

Millais  was  painting  Miss  Mackenzie’s  head  when  the 
Yellow  Jacket  was  brought  in,  and,  as  he  draped  it  on  her, 
he  said  : “ There!  That  is  my  idea  of  Queen  Esther;  you 
must  let  me  paint  you  like  that.” 

The  subject  of  “ The  Romans  leaving  Britain  ” is  one 
which  had  always  had  a great  attraction  for  Millais.  We 
see  here,  as  Mr.  Stephens  says,  “ the  parting  between  a 
Roman  legionary  and  his  British  mistress.  They  are  placed 
on  a cliff-path  overlooking  the  sea,  where  a large  galley 
is  waiting  for  the  soldier.  He  kneels  at  the  woman's  feet, 
with  his  arms  clasped  about  her  body;  his  face,  though 
unhelmeted,  is  hidden  from  us  in  her  breast ; her  hands  are 
upon  his  shoulders,  and  she  looks  steadfastly,  with  a 
passionate,  eager,  savage  stare  upon  the  melancholy  waste 
of  the  grey  and  restless  sea.” 


* “ At  the  end  of  the  Taeping  Rebellion,  and  when  Gordon  gave  up  the  command 
of  the  ‘ ever-victorious  army,’  the  Chinese  Government  tried  to  offer  him  rewards. 
He  would  take  nothing  but  the  rank  of  Ti-Tu,  or  Field  Marshal,  and  the  ‘rare 
and  high  dignity  of  the  Yellow  Jacket.'"  — Boulger’s  Life  of  Gordon,  vol.  i.  p.  122. 


“WAKING’ 


1865] 


385 


The  sentiment  and  pathos  of  this  picture  were  much 
admired,  and  soon  after  the  close  of  the  Exhibition  (1865) 
Millais  received  the  following  interesting  letter  from  Miss 
Anne  Thackeray,  daughter  of  the  novelist  before  referred 
to,  written  from  the  home  of  the  Tennysons  at  Freshwater, 
Isle  of  Wight : — 

“ I thought  of  you  one  day  last  week  when  we  took  a 
walk  with  Tennyson  and  came  to  some  cliffs,  a sweep  of 
sand,  and  the  sea ; and  I almost  expected  to  see  poor 
Boadicea  up  on  the  cliff,  with  her  passionate  eyes.  I heard 
Mr.  Watts  and  Mr.  Prinsep  looking  for  her  somewhere  else, 
but  I am  sure  mine  was  on  the  cliff.  Mr.  Watts  has  been 
painting  Hallam  and  Lionel  Tennyson.  We  hear  him  when 
we  wake,  playing  his  fiddle  in  the  early  morning.  They  are 
all  so  kind  to  us  that  we  do  not  know  how  to  be  grateful 
enough.  We  have  had  all  sorts  of  stray  folk.  Jowett  and 
the  Dean  of  Christchurch,  and  cousins  without  number.  It 
has  been  very  pleasant  and  sunshiny,  and  we  feel  as  if 
we  should  like  to  live  on  here  in  lodgings  all  the  rest  of  our 
lives.  Last  night  ‘ King  Alfred  ’ read  out  ‘ Maude.’  It  was 
like  beautiful  harmonious  thunder  and  lightning.  ...  I 
cannot  help  longing  to  know  the  fate  of  ‘ Esther’  ....  after 
she  went  in  through  the  curtains.” 

The  daughter  of  Scott  Russell  (the  engineer  of  the  Great 
Eastern ) sat  for  the  British  maiden  “ Boadicea,”  and  the 
picture  ultimately  became  the  property  of  Sir  Lowthian  Bell. 
The  background  was  painted  down  at  Truro  in  Cornwall, 
where  for  a week  Millais  was  the  guest  of  Bishop  Phil lpotts 
at  Porthwidden. 

At  this  time  he  had  some  idea  of  painting  one  of  the 
closing  scenes  in  the  life  of  Mary  Queen  of  Scots,  and  with 
a view  to  this  he  exchanged  several  letters  with  Froude, 
the  historian,  who  kindly  gave  him  all  the  information  in 
his  power.  His  letters,  however,  went  to  prove  that  the 
incident  the  artist  had  in  mind  had  no  foundation  in  fact, 
so  the  idea  was  at  once  abandoned. 

In  July  he  commenced  the  picture  known  as  “Waking” 
— a portrait  of  my  sister  Mary  sitting  up  in  bed  — and  was 
getting  well  on  with  it  when  his  little  model  showed  signs 
of  illness  that  compelled  him  to  leave  off  for  a time.  It  was 
finished,  however,  later  on,  and  is  now  in  the  collection  of 
Mr.  Philip  Harter,  of  Leamington.  A bed,  with  all  its 
accessories,  is  not  commonly  a thing  of  beauty,  but  in  this 

1 — 25 


386  JOHN  EVERETT  MILLAIS  [i86S 

case  the  artist  made  it  so,  the  high  finish  of  the  still-life 
adding  greatly  to  the  general  effect.  Writing  to  my  mother 
on  the  29th  of  this  month,  he  says: — “ I am  working  very 
hard.  Have  commenced  the  duplicates  of  ‘ Esther,’  and 
commence  the  Romans  to-day.  ‘Joan  °f  Arc’  is  gone,  and 
I am  hourly  expecting  Agnew  to  send  for  Alice  [‘  Swallow.. 
Swallow  ’].” 

On  August  12th  he  and  his  friend  Reginald  Cholmondeley 
went  off  to  the  North  — this  time  to  Argyle,  wdrere  Sir 
William  Harcourt  had  taken  a shooting  called  Dalhenna,. 
amongst  the  lovely  hills  near  Inverary.  The  great  leader 
of  the  Liberals  proved  a most  admirable  host,  and  many 
are  the  good  stories  told  of  the  jovial  times  the  three  friends 
had  together.  Howr  Millais  enjoyed  it  may  be  gathered 
from  the  following  letters  to  his  wife,  all  dated  in  August,. 
1866.  In  the  first  he  says:  — 

“ Harcourt  and  I shot  twenty-three  brace  yesterday  in  a 
frightful  sun,  and  enjoyed  the  day  very  much.  Cholmondeley 
is  not  well  (knocked  up  by  the  heat),  so  he  didn’t  accom- 
pany us.  H.  is  sending  all  the  birds  to  England,  and  we 
don’t  like  to  have  birds  for  ourselves.  The  cuisine  is  like 
that  of  a good  club.  His  cook  is  here  and  manservant, 
and  the  comfort  is  sweat  altogether  delightful -—and  the 
grapes  and  peaches  were  thoroughly  appreciated.  The 
Duke  and  Duchess  of  Sutherland  left  yesterday.  She 
looked  so  pretty  at  luncheon  on  Sunday.  We  have  a great 
deal  of  laughing.  To-day  we  are  going  to  fish  in  Loch 
Fyne  for  Lythe , which  afford  good  sport ; and  to-morrow 
we  shoot  again.  Cholmondeley  has  his  keeper  and  dogs 
with  him.  H.  has  a kilted  keeper  of  his  own,  besides  the 
ponies  for  the  hill  with  saddlebags.  We  are  going  to  visit 
the  islands  in  a yacht,  as  the  rivers  are  too  dry  for  fishing 
salmon. 

“ 1 have  been  unusually  well  since  coming  here,  and  very 
merry.  Lord  Lome  is  a very  nice  pleasant  fellow,  and 
all  the  family  are  kindly,  and  as  soon  as  the  Duke  returns 
we  are  to  dine  there.  Our  cottage  is  such  a pretty  spot  — 
roses  and  convolvulus  and  honeysuckle  over  the  porch,  and 
a swallow  feeding  her  young  within  reach  of  our  hands.” 

Of  these  Dalhenna  days  Millais  loved  to  recall  an  amusing 
incident,  the  hero  being  one  of  the  three  shooters,  who  shall 
be  nameless.  One  evening  during  a casual  stroll  about  the 
domain,  the  sportsman  spied  a magnificent  “ horned  beast  ” 


‘THE  ROMANS  LEAVING  BRITAIN.” 
By  permission  of  Sir  Lothian  Bell 


LETTER  TO  HIS  WIFE 


1865] 


389 


grazing  peacefully  on  their  little  hill.  In  the  gloaming  it 
loomed  up  as  a stag  of  fine  proportions  ; and  without  pausing 
to  examine  it  through  a glass,  he  rushed  into  the  house,  and, 
seizing  a rifle,  advanced  upon  his  quarry  with  all  the  stealth 
and  cunning  of  an  accomplished  stalker.  The  crucial  moment 
came  at  last.  His  finger  was  on  the  trigger,  and  the  death 
of  the  animal  a certainty,  when  a raucous  Highland  voice 
bellowed  in  his  ear,  “ Ye  're  no  gaen  to  shute  the  meenister’s 
goat,  are  ye  ? ” Tableau  ! 

In  a second  letter  to  my  mother  he  says  : — “ Harcourt  is 
having  a new  grate  put  into  his  kitchen,  to  soften  his  cook. 
We  have  come  in  the  dog-cart  here  for  the  day,  taking  boat 
at  Cladich  and  leaving  it  almost  immediately  in  terror, 
from  the  unsafeness  of  the  boat  in  heavy  waves.  We  walked 
on  here,  and  H.  at  once  let  go  a storm  of  invective  against 
the  landlady  and  the  waiter,  both  being  so  supremely  in- 
different about  our  custom,  that  we  had  great  difficulty  in 
assuaging  our  appetites.  After  long  suffering  we  obtained 
only  very  tough  chops  and  herrings.  We  return  to-morrow 
and  shoot  again  on  Saturday.  To-day  we  drove  through 
what  the  natives  call  the  ‘ Duke’s  policies,’  and  met  the  great 
man  himself,  who  was  all  smiles  and  politeness. 

“ I will  return  directly  the  fortnight  is  out,  but  not  before, 
as  H.  looks  on  me  as  his  mainstay  in  shooting,  Cholmon- 
deley  not  being  well  and  avoiding  the  heavy  work  on  the 
moor.  The  weather  has  been  unendurably  hot,  but  I thrive 
in  it,  and  would  be  happy  but  for  the  midges,  which  nearly 
destroy  all  my  pleasure.  Harcourt  is  going  to  make  out  a 
plan  for  our  tour  abroad,  as  he  knows  all  the  parts  we  intend 
visiting.  Outside  has  been  a dreadful  boy-German  band 
playing  for  two  hours,  but  now  they  have  left  off  with  ‘ God 
Save  the  Queen  ’ ; while  just  above  us  a duet  has  commenced, 
by  two  young  ladies  — ‘ Masaniello.’ 

“We  have  killed  comparatively  little  game,  but  enough  to 
make  it  pleasant,  and  I expect  plenty  of  black  game.  Rabbits 
are  abundant,  and  no  one  could  be  more  kind  and  jolly  than 
Harcourt. 

“ I like  to  hear  from  some  of  you  every  day,  that  you  are 
all  well;  and  after  this  fling  I will  return  and  work  like  a 
Trojan,  before  going  South.  I would  like,  if  possible,  to 
paint  the  firs  at  Kinnoullasa  background,  besides  the  copies.” 

In  his  next  letter  he  describes  his  meeting  with  Dr. 
Livingstone,  of  whom  he  saw  a good  deal  during  the  rest 


39° 


JOHN  EVERETT  MILLAIS 


[1865 


of  his  stay  at  Dalhenna.  After  this  he  frequently  dined  at 
the  Castle,  and  had  long  and  interesting  talks  with  the 
famous  explorer,  who  used  in  the  evening  to  amuse  the 
Duke’s  children  with  his  wonderful  tales  of  Africa,  then  a 
terra  incognita. 

Rewrites:  — “On  Friday  we  returned  to  Loch  Awe,  and 
near  Inverary  found  Lord  Archibald  Campbell  and  another 
younger  brother  catching  salmon  for  the  amusement  of  Dr. 
Livingstone,  who  is  at  the  Castle.  We  were  introduced,  and 
I had  a chat  with  the  Doctor.  They  caught  salmon  in  a 
poaching  way  with  lead  and  hooks  attached,  which  sank 
amongst  the  imprisoned  fish,  who  are  in  pools  from  which 
they  cannot  get  out.  The  same  afternoon  the  Duchess 
called  with  a carriage  full  of  pretty  children,  and  asked  us  to 
dine,  which  we  did  after  killing  twenty-eight  brace  on  the 
hill.  There  was  no  one  staying  at  the  Castle  but  Living- 
stone, but  the  party  was  large  enough,  as  there  are  sons  and 
tutors  in  abundance.  In  the  evening  we  played  billiards,  and 
at  tea  drew  out  the  African  traveller,  who  is  shy  and  not  very 
communicative.  To-morrow  we  shoot  again,  and  I think  of 
returning  on  Wednesday.  The  black  game  shooting  com- 
menced yesterday  and  I killed  two,  and  this  week  we  shall 
beat  the  low  hills  for  them.  ...  1 am  anxious  to  return  now 
and  get  on  with  my  work ; but  having  promised  to  stay  a 
fortnight,  I stay  that  time.” 

In  September  he  rejoined  his  family  at  Bowerswell,  and 
after  working  for  a month  on  “ The  Minuet  ” (a  picture  for 
which  my  sister  Effie  posed  as  the  principal  figure,  my  Aunt 
Alice  sitting  at  the  piano  in  the  background),  he  and  his  wife 
and  Sir  William  Harcourt  made  a tour  on  the  Continent, 
travelling  through  Switzerland  to  Florence,  where  they  were 
fortunate  enough  to  meet  their  friends  Sir  Henry  Layard  and 
Lord  and  Lady  Arthur  Russell.  Layard,  the  famous  archaeo- 
logist, was  born  in  Florence,  and  Italy  was  an  open  book  to 
him.  He  was,  moreover,  a most  charming  companion,  and 
under  his  guidance  my  father  was  enabled  to  see  all  the  best 
Art  collections  in  the  city,  including  the  treasures  left  by  the 
Prince  Gall i,  who  had  recently  died.  He  was  the  last  of  his 
race,  and  had  bequeathed  all  his  paintings  and  pieces  of 
sculpture  to  the  hospital  of  Florence,  including  the  marble 
statue  of  Leda  and  the  Swan,  by  Michael  Angelo,  a work 
of  Art  which  had  been  in  the  possession  of  the  Gall i family 
for  over  300  years.  This  statue  Sir  Henry  strongly  advised 


MEETS  ADELINA  PATTI 


39i 


1865] 

Millais  to  buy  at  any  price,  saying  that,  if  he  did  not  do  so, 
he  would  buy  it  himself  for  his  friend  Lord  Wimborne, 
although  he  had  no  commission  to  do  so.  It  was  probably 
the  last  occasion,  he  said,  on  which  a genuine  work  by 
Michael  Angelo  would  be  for  sale,  as  the  Italian  Government 
were  then  about  to  put  in  force  an  Act  prohibiting  the  removal 
from  the  country  of  great  and  well-known  works  of  Art. 
Millais,  therefore,  attended  the  sale  and  purchased  the 
“ Leda,”  which  was  at  once  packed  and  sent  off  to  London. 
A most  fortunate  thing  for  him,  for  the  very  next  day  came 
a missive  from  the  Russian  Government  requesting  the 
Italian  Government  to  buy  the  “Leda"  for  them  at  any 
price,  and  the  latter  were  not  too  well  pleased  when  they 
heard  that  it  was  already  on  its  way  to  England. 

One  evening  my  father  and  mother  were  invited  to  dine 
with  a Mr.  Spence  at  the  Villa  Spence  — a house  that  formerly 
belonged  to  the  Medicis,  and  is  now  one  of  the  show  places 
in  Florence,  with  its  exquisite  gardens  and  wonderful  under- 
ground chapel.  They  did  not  know  whom  they  were  to 
meet,  but  on  arriving  there  they  found  amongst  the  guests 
Mario,  Grisi  and  her  three  daughters,  as  well  as  Adelina 
and  Carlotta  Patti,  and  their  brother-in-law  Strakosch  — 
altogether  a dinner-party  of  geniuses.  But  geniuses  enjoy 
themselves  very  much  like  other  people.  They  told  each 
other  all  the  best  stories  they  could  think  of  in  connection 
with  their  public  lives,  and  after  dinner  Strakosch  played, 
and  Millais  danced  nearly  the  whole  evening  with  Adelina 
Patti,  who  proved  herself  almost  as  good  a waltzer  as  a 
vocalist.  They  met  again  at  some  state  function  in  London 
about  a year  before  his  death,  when  she  recalled  the  happy 
time  they  had  spent  that  evening  at  the  Villa  Spence. 

From  Florence,  accompanied  by  their  friends,  they  visited 
Bologna  and  Venice,  where  they  stayed  with  Mr.  Rawdon 
Brown  in  his  palace  on  the  Grand  Canal.  Then  to  Rome, 
where  they  had  to  undergo  the  delights  of  fumigation  by 
sulphur,  and  were  nearly  suffocated  ; for  this  was  in  the  days 
of  Cardinal  Antonelli,  when  the  fear  of  the  plague  was  at  its 
height.  Here,  as  at  Florence,  Sir  Henry  Layard  again  acted 
as  their  guide  to  the  Art  treasures  of  the  city,  and  Lord  Arthur 
Russell  took  them  into  the  Vatican  to  see  the  Pope,  Pius  IX., 
whom  my  mother  used  to  describe  as  a very  nice,  benevolent- 
looking  old  gentleman.  He  was  dressed  all  in  white,  with  a 
black  biretta,  and  acknowledged  their  salutations  as  he  passed. 


392  JOHN  EVERETT  MILLAIS  [1865 

Almost  immediately  after  he  had  passed  out,  the  Abbe 
Liszt  came  into  the  room,  and  was  presented  by  the  British 
Ambassador  to  my  father  and  mother.  Liszt  at  once  struck 
up  a conversation  with  my  mother,  to  the  great  mortifica- 
tion of  her  husband,  who  was  most  anxious  to  talk  to  him, 
but  could  not  speak  a word  of  any  other  language  than  his 
own.  After  bidding  good-bye  to  their  friends  in  Rome, 
Millais  and  his  wife  went  on  alone  to  Pisa,  to  see  Sir  Charles 
Eastlake,  p.  r.a.,  who  was  then  on  his  death-bed. 

Leghorn  was  now  their  aim,  and  after  visiting  several  other 
places  on  their  way,  they  arrived  there  at  midnight  in  a way 
they  did  not  anticipate.  About  ten  miles  from  their  destina- 
tion the  railway  engine  broke  down,  and  there  was  nothing 
for  it  but  to  finish  their  journey  as  they  did,  in  a country  cart, 
sitting  on  the  top  of  their  luggage.  There,  however,  they 
had  the  good  luck  to  fall  in  with  Mario  again,  who  afterwards 
took  ship  with  them  for  Genoa,  where,  with  the  aid  of 
despatches,  he  helped  them  through  the  intricacies  of  the 
custom-house  — a very  real  service  in  those  red-tape  days. 
The  splendid  Vandykes  of  Genoa  were  an  immense  pleasure 
to  my  father,  but  I never  heard  him  express  a wish  to  see 
any  other  masterpieces  in  the  foreign  galleries  except  the 
series  of  pictures  by  Velascpiez  in  Madrid,  for  he  already 
knew  the  Paris  and  Hague  galleries,  and  loathed  travelling 
in  any  form.  And  now  their  faces  were  set  towards  England, 
home,  and  duty  ; and  as  there  was  no  railway  in  those  days 
along  the  Riviera,  they  took  the  “ diligence  ” all  the  way  to 
Marseilles  and  from  there  home  by  sea. 

“Sleeping,”  “Waking,”  and  “The  Minuet,”  the  three 
pictures  which  Millais  exhibited  in  the  Royal  Academy  of 
1867,  may  certainly  be  classed  amongst  the  specimens  of  his 
later  Pre-Raphaelite  manner,  of  which  the  “Vale  of  Rest’’ 
was  the  first  example.  It  would  seem,  therefore,  that  just 
for  this  one  year  he  returned  to  his  old  love,  before  the 
production  of  his  broader  works  of  “ Jephtha”  and  “ Rosalind 
and  Celia,”  both  commenced  in  1867. 

These  three  pictures  were  exact  portraits  of  my  sisters 
Carrie,  Mary,  and  Effie,  and  (as  I have  often  heard  from 
those  who  knew  them  from  their  infancy)  were  not  idealised 
in  the  slightest  degree.  The  art  of  the  painter  was  exercised 
only  in  seizing  upon  the  beauty  of  a particular  child  at  a 
certain  moment,  and  transferring  it  to  his  canvas.  That  was 
not  idealising,  but  simply  catching  the  child  at  its  very  best. 


“SLEEPING.”  1866 

By  permission  0/  H . Graves  and  Son 


A SLEEPY  MODEL 


395 


1 866] 

None  of  the  three  little  girls  ever  enjoyed  sitting  for  their 
portraits.  As  one  of  them  expressed  herself  at  the  time, 
“ It  was  so  horrid,  just  after  breakfast,  to  be  taken  upstairs 
and  undressed  again,  to  be  put  to  bed  in  the  studio.”  When 
tired  of  gazing  seraphically  upwards  she  would  wait  till  my 
father  was  not  looking,  and  then  kick  all  the  bedclothes  off, 
perhaps  just  as  he  was  painting  a particular  fold  — a trick 
which  the  artist  never  seemed  to  appreciate.  The  idea  for 
“ Sleeping  ” was  suggested  by  seeing  my  sister  Carrie,  then 
a very  little  girl,  fast  asleep  the  morning  after  a children’s 
party.  Millais  went  to  the  nursery  to  look  for  the  child, 
and  found  the  French  maid,  Berthe,  sewing  beside  the  bed, 
waiting  for  her  charge  to  wake  up  ; and  when  sitting  for  this 
picture  the  little  model  used  often  to  go  to  sleep  in  real 
earnest. 

My  sister  Mary  tells  the  following  story  about  “ Waking.” 
Being  left  alone  for  a few  minutes  during  the  painting  of  this 
picture,  she  slipped  out  of  bed  and  crept  up  to  the  table 
where  the  palettes  and  brushes  were  left ; and  then,  taking 
a good  brushful  of  paint  and  reaching  as  high  as  possible, 
proceeded  to  embellish  the  lower  part  of  the  work  with  some 
beautiful  brown  streaks.  Presently  she  heard  her  father  re- 
turning and  bolted  back  to  bed.  Foreseeing  that  in  another 
minute  he  would  discover  the  mischief,  she  wisely  hastened 
to  explain  that  she  had  tried  to  help  him  in  his  work  by 
painting  for  him  the  brown  floor  that  she  knew  he  intended. 
Poor  Millais  turned  in  a desperate  fright  to  his  picture,  and 
saw  the  harm  that  had  been  done,  but  with  his  characteristic 
sympathy  with  children  he  never  said  a word  of  reproach  to 
little  Mary,  seeing  that  she  had  really  meant  to  help. 

During  1865  and  1866  he  made  water-colour  copies  of 
“ Ophelia  ” and  “ The  Huguenot,”  “ The  Black  Brunswicker,” 
“ The  Minuet,”  “ Swallow,  Swallow,”  and  “ The  Evil  One 
Sowing  Tares,”  and  copies  in  oil  of  “ Esther  ” and  “ The 
Romans  ” ; also  two  oil  pictures,  one  of  which  was  a portrait 
of  a Miss  Davidson,  and  the  other  a small  one  of  Effle  as 
“ Little  Red  Riding  Hood.” 

From  Sir  William  Cunliffe  Brooks  the  shootings  of 
Callander  and  a small  part  of  Glen  Artney  were  taken  in 
1866.  This  was  a grouse  shooting,  but  now  and  then  a 
stag  came  on  to  the  ground.  Millais  got  three,  and  then 
a fourth  made  its  appearance,  and  returned  again  and  again 
to  the  ground  — one  of  the  grandest  stags  ever  seen  in  that 


[i  866 


396  JOHN  EVERETT  MILLAIS 

neighbourhood.  My  father  was  of  course  keen  for  a shot,  but 
he  happened  to  know  this  stag,  having  spied  it  on  several 
occasions  on  the  borders  of  the  neighbouring  forest  rented 
by  Sir  William,  and  being  on  most  friendly  terms  with  the 
owner,  he  let  it  go.  Afterwards,  in  the  course  of  conversa- 
tion, Sir  William  expressed  his  anxiety  to  shoot  this  particular 
stag,  but  added  (as  any  true  sportsman  would),  “ If  he  is  any- 
where about  your  march  you  had  better  kill  him.” 

Days  went  by,  and  the  end  of  the  season  was  approaching, 
when  one  evening  Millais  espied  the  great  stag  feeding  on 
his  ground  about  fifty  yards  from  the  march.  Now  was  his 
chance  — his  last  chance  of  a shot  at  such  a monarch  as  this. 
He  was  excited  beyond  measure,  and  his  stalker  was  even 
more  elated,  for  (as  unfortunately  sometimes  happens)  there 
was  intense  rivalry  and  bitterness  between  him,  a man  of 
small  pretence,  and  the  head  stalker  at  Glen  Artney,  who  was 
a tremendous  swell  in  his  own  conceit.  Then  the  stalk  began, 
and  just  as  the  quarry  crossed  the  march  a shot  from  Millais’ 
rifle  laid  him  dead.  At  that  moment,  to  the  astonishment  of 
my  father,  who  had  seen  nobody  else  about,  up  rose  Sir 
William  and  his  stalker,  who  had  been  after  the  same  game. 
The  stag  was  therefore  carted  off  to  Glen  Artney,  and  Sir 
William  being  satisfied  with  my  father’s  explanation,  the  two 
remained  as  good  friends  as  ever. 

After  slaying  this  noble  hart,  he  could  not  refrain  from 
exulting  over  his  success  in  a wild  letter  to  his  friend  Sir 
William  Harcourt,  who  replied  as  follows:  — 

From  Sir  IV.  V.  Harcourt. 

“ Studley  Royal,  Ripon, 

“ October  yd,  1866. 

“ My  dear  Millais,  — I received  your  insane  letter,  from 
which  I gather  that  you  are  under  the  impression  that  you 
have  killed  a stag.  Poor  fellow,  I pity  your  delusion.  I 
hope  the  time  is  now  come  when  I can  break  to  you  the 
painful  truth.  Your  wife,  who  (as  I have  always  told  you) 
alone  makes  it  possible  for  you  to  exist,  observing  how  the 
disappointment  of  your  repeated  failures  was  telling  on  your 
health  and  on  your  intellect,  arranged  with  the  keepers  for 
placing  in  a proper  position  a wooden  stag  constructed  like 
that  of  ...  You  were  conducted  unsuspectingly  to  the  spot 
and  fired  at  the  dummy.  In  the  excitement  of  the  moment 


DEER-STALKING 


397 


1866] 

you  were  carried  off  by  the  gillie,  so  that  you  did  not  discern 
the  cheat,  and  believed  you  had  really  slain  a ‘hart  of  grease.’ 
Poor  fellow,  I know  better;  and  indeed  your  portrait  of  the 
stag  sitting  up  smiling , with  a head  as  big  as  a church  door 
on  his  shoulders,  tells  its  own  tale.  I give  Mrs.  M.  great 
credit  on  this,  as  on  all  other  occasions,  for  her  management 
of  you.  I am  happy  to  hear  that  the  result  of  the  pious 
fraud  has  been  to  restore  you  to  equanimity  and  comparative 
sanity,  and  I hope  by  the  time  I see  you  again  you  may  be 
wholly  restored.  . . . 

“ Pray  remember  me  to  Mrs.  M. 

“ Yours  ever, 

“ W.  V.  Harcourt. 

“ I see  that,  in  order  to  keep  up  the  delusion,  puffs  of  your 
performance  have  been  inserted  in  all  the  papers.” 

There  are  some  fortunate  beings  in  this  world  who  have 
never  missed  a stag,  and  never  can  or  will ; but  Millais  was 
not  one  of  these.  In  the  following  letter  to  his  friend  Mr. 
W.  W.  Fenn  (written  during  his  tenancy  of  Callander), 
he  describes  faithfully  and  amusingly  the  hardships  and  dis- 
appointments of  deer-stalking:  — 

To  Mr.  IV.  IV.  Fenn. 

“ Callander,  N.B., 

“ Sunday , October  7th,  1S66. 

“ Dear  Fenn,  — My  wife  and  eldest  daughter  have  gone  to 
the  Free  Kirk;  and  that  I may  do  as  good  a work,  I send 
you  a line,  albeit  I am  aching  in  all  my  limbs  from  having 
crawled  over  stony  impediments  all  yesterday,  in  pursuit  of 
ye  suspicious  stag.  You  know  the  position  of  all-fours  which 
fathers  assume  for  the  accommodation  of  their  boys,  in  the 
privacy  of  domestic  life,  and  you  can  conceive  how  unsuited 
the  hands  and  knees  are  to  make  comfortable  progress  over 
cutting  slate  and  knobbly  flint,  and  will  understand  how  my 
legs  are  like  unto  the  pear  of  over-ripeness. 

“ I had  two  shots,  the  first  of  which  I ought  to  have  killed, 
and  I shall  never  forget  the  tail-between-legs  dejection  of 
that  moment  when  the  animal,  instead  of  biting  the  dust, 
kicked  it  up  viciously  into  my  face.  After  more  pipes  and 
whiskey  than  was  good  for  me,  we  toiled  on  again,  and  a 


398  JOHN  EVERETT  MILLAIS  [1866 

second  time  viewed  some  deer,  and  repeated  the  toilsome 
crawling  I have  referred  to.  Enough  ! I missed  that  too, 
and  rode  home  on  our  pony,  which  must  from  my  soured 
temper  have  known  it  too.  I tooled  him  along,  heedless  of 
the  dangers  of  the  road,  until  the  gladdening  lights  of  home 
flickered  through  the  dining-room  window!  Mike  is  not 
a sympathising  creature  under  these  circumstances,  being 
thoroughly  convinced  that  a cockchafer’s  shoulder  ought  to 
be  hit  flying  at  a thousand  yards  ; so,  after  the  never-failing 
pleasure  of  the  table,  I retired,  to  dream  of  more  stomach 
perambulations  up  and  down  precipices  of  burning  plough- 
shares, the  demons  of  the  forest  laughing  at  my  ineffectual 
efforts  to  hit  the  mastodon  of  the  prairies  at  fifteen  yards 
distance.  You  may  depend  upon  it,  roach-fishing  in  a punt 
is  the  thing  after  all.  When  you  don’t  excite  the  pity  and 
contempt  of  your  keeper,  what  boots  it  if  you  don’t  strike 
your  roach  ? (probably  naught  but  the  float  of  porcupine  is 
aware  of  it),  but  when  you  proclaim  to  the  mountains,  yea, 
even  to  the  towns  adjoining  thereto,  that  you  have  fired  at 
the  monarch  of  the  glen,  how  can  you  face  the  virgins  and 
pipers  who  come  up  from  the  village  to  crown  you  with 
bog-myrtle,  and  exalt  your  stag’s  horn  through  the  streets 
rejoicing?  Every  shot  fired  in  the  forest  is  known  to  be  at 
a stag  or  hind, 

‘And  the  shepherd  listening,  kens  well 
That  the  monarch  of  the  glen,  fell, 

Howsomever,  if  it  ends  well, 

As  happens  rarely, 

And  the  highland  laddie  breechless, 

Hears  the  shot,  and  stands  quite  speechless, 

Etc.,  etc.,  etc.’ 

This  inspiration  comes  from  ‘ The  Lady  of  Shalott.’  I 
think  in  my  old  age  I must  betake  myself  to  the  chase  of  the 
gaudy  butterfly  with  net  of  green,  gaffing  with  the  domestic 
bodkin.  There ’s  the  stag-beetle,  anyhow,  and  the  salmon-fly; 
and  what  can  exceed  the  danger  of  following  the  pool-loving 
dragon-fly  ? 

“ All  gone  to  Callander  — to  the  kirk  — and  the  wife  will 
return  presently,  seriously  inclined;  so  will  I cast  off  this 
skin  of  frivolity.  You  must  forgive  me  for  being  a boy  still, 
and  a little  wild  after  yesterday’s  excitement.  Michael  returns 
in  a day  or  two,  and  we  shall  very  shortly  leave  this  for  a 
short  stay  at  Perth,  and  then  home  to  sit  under  the  trophy 


“ WAKING.”  1866 
By  permission  of  H . Graves  and  Son 


A DEER  DRIVE 


401 


1866] 

of  my  own  antlers.  On  the  whole,  the  stay  here  has  been 
pleasant,  in  spite  of  a nearly  perpetual  rain,  which  (distilled 
through  peat-bog)  has  dyed  my  poor  feet  a sweet  cinnamon 
brown  like  the  Lascar  crossing-sweepers. 

“You  will  hear  from  Stephen  Lewis  his  adventures,  which 
I believe  he  will  narrate  to  his  customers  seated  all  around 
him  in  Turkish  shawls,  in  the  manner  of  the  ‘ Arabian  Nights.’ 

“ How  Arthur  is  ever  to  hold  his  own  after  the  prowess  of 
Stephen  remains  to  be  seen  ; but  — I would  n’t  be  Arthur.  A 
strong  smell  of  roast  mutton  calls  me  away,  and  I think  your 
mother  will  have  enough  work  in  deciphering  this. 

“ Remember  me  very  kindly  to  her,  and  tell  her,  tell  her, 
that  when  I return,  I come  to  thee ! 

“ Very  sincerely  yours, 

“].  Everett  Millais. 

“ I have  n’t  uncorked  a tube  or  moistened  a brush,  but  I 
hope  the  hand  has  n’t  lost  its  cunning.” 

At  the  end  of  the  season  my  father  and  mother  spent  a 
week  with  Sir  William  Cunliffe  Brooks  at  Drummond  Castle, 
which  he  rented  from  Lady  Willoughby  de  Eresby,  a place 
which,  in  point  of  situation  and  entourage,  has  no  superior  in 
Great  Britain ; indeed,  it  would  be  impossible  to  imagine 
more  lovely  surroundings.  The  old  castle  stands  on  an 
eminence  in  a park  in  which  all  the  natural  beauties  of  wood 
and  lake  are  enhanced  by  floral  and  arboreal  gems  from 
foreign  lands.  Wild  fowl  of  various  sorts  adorn  the  lakes, 
and  herds  of  half-wild  fallow-deer  roam  through  the  park, 
whilst  up  in  the  great  wood  of  Torlum  may  in  autumn  be 
heard  the  voices  of  the  big  wood  stags. 

The  sanctuary  in  Glen  Artney  Forest  had  remained  un- 
touched since  the  visit  of  the  Oueen  and  Prince  Consort  in 
1845,  and  now,  as  the  deer  were  becoming  too  numerous, 
Sir  William  decided  on  a drive.  Three  rifles  were  posted  on 
a high  ridge  above  the  sanctuary,  and  over  a thousand  deer 
came  up  by  three  separate  passes.  Six  or  seven  of  the  best 
were  killed,  and  of  the  survivors  about  seven  hundred  made 
their  way  into  the  next  corrie,  within  ten  yards  of  the  ladies 
who  had  gathered  there  to  see  what  they  could  of  the  sport. 
My  mother  used  to  describe  this  as  the  finest  sight  of  the 
kind  she  had  ever  witnessed. 


26 


CHAPTER  XI 


HOLMAN  HUNT 


A great  friendship,  and  a spur  to  noble  ambition  — Cairo  in  1854  — The  donkey  and 
the  buffalo  — A human  parallel  — The  Jewish  model,  a shy  bird  — The  difficul- 
ties and  dangers  of  life  in  and  around  Jerusalem  in  1S54  — Adventure  at  the 
Brook  Kerith  — Reflections  on  life  — Millais  must  put  forth  all  his  strength  — 
A final  tribute. 

FROM  what  has  been  already  said,  it  will  be  seen  how 
close  and  intimate  was  the  friendship  between  Holman 
Hunt  and  Millais.  They  were  friends  together  in  early 
youth,  and  together  they  fought  and  conquered  the  Philistines 
in  the  days  when  Pre-Raphaelitism  was  attacked  on  every 
side;  and  though  for  many  years  (from  1867  to  18S0)  they 
saw  but  little  of  each  other,  owing  to  Hunt’s  long  residence 
abroad,  they  kept  up  a continuous  correspondence,  the  fol- 
lowing portions  of  which  (interesting  from  many  points  of 
view)  the  writer  kindly  allows  me  to  embody  in  these  pages. 

It  is  not  for  me  to  sing  the  praises  of  this  distinguished 
artist,  whose  works  are  reverenced  of  all  who  know  what 
high  Art  means  (1  am  sure  he  would  not  thank  me  if  I did); 
but  this  at  least  I may  say,  that  no  man  had  ever  a firmer  or 
a truer  friend  than  my  father  found  in  Hunt,  and  that  his 
friendship  was  reciprocated  with  equal  warmth  of  heart. 
The  fame  of  the  one  was  ever  dear  to  the  other,  and  as  to 
Hunt,  so  far  was  he  from  any  sense  of  jealousy,  that  he 
never  lost  an  opportunity  for  urging  his  friend  to  put  forth 
all  his  powers  whenever  any  great  exhibition  was  on  foot 
either  at  home  or  abroad.  “ The  usual  Liberal  whip,”  my 
father  would  playfully  remark,  when  one  of  these  missives 
came  by  post ; and  seldom,  if  ever,  did  he  fail  to  respond  to 
the  appeal. 

The  letters  proclaim  the  man  — letters  full  of  thought,  of 
keen  but  kindly  criticism,  and  enlivened  here  and  there  with 
touches  of  quaint  humour;  but  voluminous  and  interesting  as 
they  are,  I must  restrict  my  selection  to  the  narrowest  limits. 

402 


HOLMAN  HUNT  4°3 


Here  are  a few  extracts  from  letters  during  his  first  visit  to 
the  East  in  1854. 

Writing  from  Cairo  in  March  of  that  year,  he  says  : — "1  lie 


“THE  PARABLE  OF  THE  SOWER” 


By  permission  of  J . S.  Virtue  and  Co 

country  is  very  rich  and  attractive,  but  I am  inclined  to 
mislike  it  on  that  account,  for  I have  no  patience  with  the 
Fates  when  they  tempt  me  to  become  a paysagiste.  The 
Pyramids  in  themselves  are  extremely  ugly  blocks,  arranged 


4o4  JOHN  EVERETT  MILLAIS 

with  imposing  but  unpicturesque  taste.  Being  so  close  at 
hand,  it  is  difficult  to  refuse  making  a sketch  of  them.  With 
some  effect  and  circumstance  to  satisfy  the  spectator’s  expec- 
tation and  the  charm  of  past  history,  it  might  be  possible  to 
gather  a degree  of  poetical  atmosphere  to  repay  the  patience 
one  would  expend;  but  I would  rather  give  the  time  other- 
wise. Their  only  association  that  I value  is  that  Joseph, 
Moses,  and  Jesus  must  have  looked  upon  them.  There  are 
palm  trees  which  attract  my  passing  admiration.  Without 
these,  in  places,  one  might  as  well  sketch  in  Hackney  Marsh. 
. . . I find  a good  deal  of  difficulty  in  living  in  quiet  here, 
for  there  are  four  or  five  other  Englishmen  in  the  hotel,  some 
of  them  very  pleasant  fellows  ; but  I want  solitude  for  my 
work,  and  it  is  impossible  to  feel  secluded  enough  even  when 

is  away.  When  he  is  present,  serious  devotion  to 

thought  is  often  shattered  with  intolerable  and  exasperating 
practical  jokes,  and  by  his  own  unbounded  risibility  at  the 
same.  ...  I hear  no  news  here  but  what  hoarse-throated 
donkeys  shout.  These  loquacious  brutes  are  the  only  steeds 
one  can  get  here  without  purchasing  a horse,  so  I do  not 
enjoy  the  luxury  of  following  the  hounds  as  you  do.  Ap- 
pended you  see  an  example  of  the  ordinary  load  an  ass  has 
to  carry  in  this  country.  They  are  themselves  veritably  one 
of  the  burdens  of  Cairo.  One  is  never  free  for  a second 
from  their  wanton  braying.  When  you  are  talking  with  a 
friend  in  the  street,  or  in  the  bazaar  making  a bargain,  you 
are  moved  to  excusable  exasperation  fifty  times  in  an  hour  by 
the  spasmodic  trumpeting  of  some  donkey  who  lifts  up  his 
voice  close  to  the  small  of  your  back,  or  in  front  of  you.  In 
face  of  our  hotel  there  are  several  animals  tied  up  under  the 
trees — fastened  by  the  horns  and  legs.  In  a particular  pen 
there  is  a small  menage  of  a domestic  character,  but  unfortu- 
nately it  is  not  a happy  family,  the  poor  buffalo-cow  of  the 
party  being  evidently  exhausted  with  listening  to  her  near 
neighbour  the  jackass.  The  cow’s  original  disposition  is  of 
the  utmost  and  most  admirable  patience,  but  even  vaccine 
nature  has  its  limits,  and  our  cow,  soft-eyed  and  beautiful  as 
she  is,  cannot  refrain  from  remonstrating  when  her  neigh- 
bour’s refrain  has  been  too  frequent  and  (apparently)  too 
personal.  You  should  have  seen  her  the  other  morning. 
She  had  patiently  listened  to  his  complete  discourse  some 
fifty  times;  but  when  he  cleared  his  throat  to  give  out  the 
text  once  more,  she  waived  her  politeness  so  far  as  to  indicate 


HOLMAN  HUNT 


4°5 


that  she  had  heard  all  that  before.  The  donkey  on  his  part, 
however,  persisted.  He  evidently  thought  such  an  excellent 
homily  could  not  be  heard  too  often.  Buffalo  turned  to  retire, 
evidently  with  a different  conviction,  but  her  tether  checked 
her  retreat.  She  was  infuriated  at  this  discovery,  and  turned 
round  upon  the  braying  beast  with  her  butting  head,  as  if 


she  would  make  him  swallow 
his  words  once  for  all.  But 
here  the  trial  came.  She  could 
not  reach  him,  and  so  he  could 
not  be  turned  from  his  purpose. 
After  a moment's  pause  he  took 
up  his  broken  argument  again, 
and  in  a posture  better  suited 
to  the  new  position  of  the  re- 
fractory member  of  his  audi- 
ence, until  at  last  he  wound  up, 
triumphantly  glorying  in  her 
defeat  and  complete  resigna- 
tion. I feel  ofttimes  like  that 
poor  cow,  and  cherish  an  un- 
disguised hatred  of  the  whole 


Sketch  for  “The  Parable  of  the  Good 
Samaritan.”  1S57 


braying  race.” 

“ Jerusalem , September  5 t/i,  1S54. — It  is  evident  that  it 
will  be  impossible  to  get  my  present  picture  done  for  next 
year.  I go  every  Friday  and  Saturday  and  on  feast  days  or 
days  of  humiliation  to  the  synagogue,  to  see  the  Jews 
worship.  I also  take  every  opportunity  to  get  introduced  to 
them  in  their  homes.  They  are  polite,  and  I can  study  their 
characteristic  gestures  and  aspects  ; but  for  special  attendance 
at  my  house  I can  scarcely  get  them  at  all.  When  by  the 
exercise  of  great  interest  one  is  brought,  he  looks  about  like 
a scared  bird,  and  if  he  sees  any  piece  of  carpentry  — a window 
sash,  or  a border  of  a panel  — that  looks  in  his  suspicious  eyes 
like  a cross,  away  he  flies,  never  to  come  back  any  more.  My 
landlord,  a converted  Jew,  who  has  journeymen-tailors  under 
him,  has  brought  me  one  or  two,  but  even  these  get  advised 
not  to  repeat  their  sittings,  and  thus  my  subject-picture  is  in 
the  most  unsatisfactory,  higgledy-piggledy  state,  with  many 
disjointed  bits  begun  and  not  completed.  The  Rabbis  keep 
up  the  bitterness  by  excommunicating  all  who  come  to  my 
house,  for  they  suspect  me  to  be  a missionary  in  disguise.  . . 

“You  could  not  conceive  the  possibility  of  men  being  so 


4o6  JOHN  EVERETT  MILLAIS 


fanatical  and  rancorous  as  the  Fellahs  and  Arabs  of  this 
place.  The  tame  men  in  the  city  are  in  a degree  polite  to 
Europeans  (with  what  degree  of  sincerity  I don’t  know),  but 


“THE  PARABLE  OF  THE  GOOD  SAMARITAN” 


By  permission  of  J.  S.  Virtue  a?id  Co. 


out  of  the  gates,  away  from  the  shadow  of  our  firm  English 
Consul,  no  Briton  would  be  safe,  but  for  the  probability  that 
his  coat  has  a good  pistol  or  two  in  the  pockets  which  he  is 
ready  to  use.  With  the  chance  of  escaping  detection,  they 
would  shoot  anyone  for  the  spoil  they  might  get.” 


THE  EVIL  ONE  SOWING  TARES 

By  permission  of  Mr.  E.  M.  Denny 


HOLMAN  HUNT  409 

He  had  proof  enough  of  this  at  the  Brook  Kerith,  to  get 
to  which  he  had  to  descend  a steep  cliff  500  feet  high  : — 
“ When  1 was  sketching,  a shepherd,  with  a boy  of  fifteen 


“THE  PARABLE  OF  THE  PRODIGAL  SON” 

By  permission  0/ J.  S.  Virtue  and  Co. 

and  three  or  four  others  a year  or  two  younger,  came  and  sat 
down  beside  me.  To  show  them  I intended  to  have  my  own 
way,  I told  the  man  to  sit  further  away  on  one  side  and  the 


410  JOHN  EVERETT  MILLAIS 

boy  on  the  other.  I could  not  order  them  away  altogether, 
as  they  greeted  me  civilly  on  first  arriving,  but  it  was  difficult 
to  attend  to  my  work,  for  they  required  looking  after.  I had 
laid  aside  my  pistol-case  on  account  of  the  heat,  and  in  two 
minutes  the  man  had  got  hold  of  it  and  was  unfastening  the 
button.  I clutched  it  away,  and  cautioned  him  that  if  he 
touched  anything  of  mine  again  I would  send  them  all  away, 
at  the  same  time  buckling  the  weapon  round  my  waist. 
Then,  turning  my  head,  I found  the  younger  gentleman  with 
his  hand  in  my  pocket,  upon  which  I reached  out,  boxed  his 
ears,  and  pushed  him  aside,  and  standing  up  ordered  them 
all  away.  This  brought  on  a hubbub.  Seeing  that  I was 
determined  in  my  course,  the  man  said  they  were  Arab 
fellaheen,  who  would  not  be  put  off.  Would  I give  them 
some  English  gunpowder?  No;  I would  give  nothing. 
‘Very  well,’  he  said,  ‘ I will  bring  down  all  the  fellaheen  to 
kill  you.’  Meanwhile  my  friend  Dr.  Sim  was  lying  asleep  in 
a cave  at  some  distance,  and  on  looking  towards  him  I saw 
another  young  Arab,  who  had  crawled  into  the  cave,  engaged 
at  the  opening  in  examining  the  articles  in  his  hand  with  the 
closest  possible  interest ; so  I called  out  lustily  enough  to 
wake  Sim,  and  at  this  point  the  Arab  boy  bolted  with  Sim’s 
boots.  They  all  went  away  then,  threatening  dreadful  things, 
and  I set  to  work  again  to  make  up  for  lost  time.  In  a few 
minutes  I heard  a furious  altercation.  . . . Sim  was  standing 
high  on  a rock,  while  the  man  was  crouching  down  aiming  at 
him  over  a ledge  ; but  as  my  companion  stood  unmoved  with 
his  gun  under  his  arm  while  the  Arab  was  dreadfully  excited, 
I was  not  alarmed.  It  appears  that  the  fellow  had  ap- 
proached him  on  his  descent,  demanding  powder,  that  Sim 
had  called  him  majnoon  (madman)  and  ordered  him  off.  At 
last,  Sim  closing  upon  his  adversary  with  his  gun  cocked,  the 
latter  moved  off  to  safer  quarters.” 

The  following  letter  relates  to  Hunt’s  third  journey  to  the 
East : — 


“ Jerusalem, 

“ October  12  th,  1871. 

“ My  dear  Millais,  — I was  very  glad  to  get  yours  of 
August  20th,  which  came  here  about  three  weeks  since. 
I should  have  written  since  my  last,  notwithstanding  that 
I had  had  no  answer  to  mine,  but  I was  excessively  occupied, 


HOLMAN  HUNT 


4i  1 

and  always  thinking  that  in  another  few  weeks  I should  be 
on  my  road  home  to  England. 

“ I was  truly  sorry  to  hear  of  your  father’s  death.  . . . 


“THE  PARABLE  OF  THE  UNJUST  JUDGE" 

By  fiermissioji  of  J.  S.  Virtue  a?id  Co. 

He  was  a good  old  fellow,  and  associated  in  my  mind 
with  all  manner  of  kind  and  pleasant  hospitality,  and  true, 
generous  friendship,  and  I had  hoped  to  spend  many  other 


412  JOHN  EVERETT  MILLAIS 

pleasant  hours  with  the  dear  old  boy  — for  he  was  always 
a boy,  and  all  the  better  for  this.  Well,  our  next  chat 
must  be  in  the  Elysian  Fields,  where  we  shall  have  lots  of 
things  to  talk  about,  and  where  (however  soon  it  may  be)  he 
will  enact  the  part  of  old  stager,  as  he  did  when  I first  knew 
him  in  Gower  Street ! And  what  a lot  of  old  chums  there  will 
be  whom,  when  I left  England  last,  I counted  upon  smoking 
many  mundane  pipes  with  again — Halliday,  Martineau, 
Phillips,  my  good  brother-in-law  George,  an  old  chum  and 
fellow-traveller  of  old  here,  Beaumont,  as  well  as  the  boring, 

good-natured . They  will  coach  us  as  to  the  course 

we  are  to  take  there,  and  tell  us  where  to  find  people  we 
want  to  see  and  know  (when  it  may  be  allowed  to  such 
new-comers  to  be  admitted  to  their  society),  and  whether  and 
where  our  own  most  sacred  ones  may  be  overtaken. 

“ Life  here  wants  something  to  make  it  bearable.  Having 
no  sort  of  counter-interest,  my  work  becomes  the  most 
frightful  anxiety  to  me,  and  sometimes  I am  sure  I have 
lost  a great  deal  of  labour  from  nursing  all  manner  of  fears 
about  it.  When  a notion  once  gets  into  my  head  it  goes 
on  worrying  me  until  I see  everything  by  its  light,  and  I 
am  tempted  to  change  back  again.  When  I began  my  work 
I had  very  ambitious  hopes  about  it,  but  (like  Browning's 
man,  who  in  infancy  cried  for  the  moon,  and  in  old  age  was 
grateful  for  the  crutch  on  which  lie  hobbled  out  of  the  world) 
I should  be  glad  now  to  find  it  only  done  in  any  way.  There 
are  peculiar  difficulties  in  the  subject  I have  devoted  my  time 
to  — such  serious  ones  that,  had  I only  foreseen  them,  I would 
have  left  the  subject  to  some  future  painter ; but  I tried  to 
console  myself  by  thinking  that  other  pictures  I have  in  my 
mind  to  follow  will  go  more  easily  and  be  a great  deal  better. 

“I  am  like  you  in  loving  my  Art  very  intensely  now, 
the  more  it  seems  that  I am  denied  all  other  love  ; but  I 
am  reminded  of  the  remark  of  a little  child,  who,  talking 
about  love  to  her  mother,  said  it  pained  so.  My  love  for 
Art  pains  me  — it  hurts  me  sleeping  and  waking;  there  is 
no  rest  from  it — and  I,  getting  old  in  desponding  service,  feel 
(quoting  Browning  again)  like 

‘ Only  the  page  that  carols  unseen, 

Crumbling  your  hounds  their  messes.’ 

“ If  I had  my  life  over  again  (which  ofttimes  I should 
crave  God  for  some  reasons  to  spare  me)  I might  (if  fools 


“GREENWICH  PENSIONERS  AT  THE  TOMB  OF  NELSON,'*  1868 
By  permission  0/  Mr.  H . Roberts 


\ 


HOLMAN  HUNT 


4M 


could  be  kept  from  hindering),  out  of  the  raw  materials  I 
started  my  days  with,  make  a satisfactory  painter;  but  this 
life  is  made  so  that  wisdom  and  riches  come  too  late.  The 
prizes  that  boyhood  sighs  for  come  when  toys  are  no  longer 
in  request ; those  which  youth  covets  are  withheld  till  youth 
is  flown;  and  so  on  to  the  grave.  One  must  continue  one’s 
journey  minus  the  means  and  weapons  which  carelessness  or 
over-confidence  rejected  at  one’s  place  of  outfit  — the  tale 
of  the  foolish  virgins  again,  who,  in  going  back,  came  at 
last  too  late.  One  must  go  on  now,  trusting  that  the  oil 
will  last  to  the  journey’s  end,  though  the  lamp  may  not  be 
so  brilliant  as  it  should  be.  The  one  fact  that  continually 
perplexes  me  is  how  the  confidence  of  youth  carried  me 
through  difficulties  that  now  quite  bring  me  to  a standstill. 
I had  no  fear  then  of  the  distant  royalty  of  my  mistress, 
but  bit  by  bit  I have  learnt  the  width  of  the  gap  between 
us ; and  the  very  sense  of  her  greatness  paralyses  my  hand 
in  attempting  the  simplest  service.  It  is  very  imprudent 
to  confess  all  this,  for  the  world  will  never  believe  in  any- 
one who  does  not  have  unbounded  confidence  in  himself, 
and  will,  on  the  contrary,  accept  any  humbug  who  declares 
himself  infallible ; but  you  are  not  the  world. , but  an  old 
fellow-servant,  who  knows  too  well  what  sincere  service  is 
to  be  prejudiced  against  my  work  because  I confess  the 

trouble  it  gives  me.  I marvel  at  men  who,  like  X , never 

see  a fault  in  anything  they  do,  and  regard  with  scorn  any 
who  venture  to  suggest  an  improvement.  For  the  time 
they  are  enviable,  yet  I believe  there  is  a degree  of  self- 
satisfaction  which  limits  a man’s  powers  woefully.  . . . 

“ I am  sorry  for  William’s  loss  of  his  child.  Give  my  love 
to  him  as  well  as  to  all  your  family,  and  tell  Mary  I shall 
come  and  try  her  at  her  Catechism  soon. 

“ Yours  ever, 

“W.  Holman  Hunt.” 


It  will  be  seen  from  these  letters  how  interesting  was 
Hunt’s  life  in  the  Holy  Land,  and  how  pregnant  with  thought 
are  the  graver  incidents  to  which  he  calls  attention.  Some 
day,  perhaps,  he  may  be  tempted  to  give  to  the  world  a full 
record  of  his  life  and  adventures,  which  — judging  from  the 
vast  mass  of  correspondence  it  has  been  my  privilege  to  read 
— could  not  fail  to  find  acceptance  with  the  public. 


416  JOHN  EVERETT  MILLAIS 

Outside  of  our  own  family  he  was  my  father’s  sole  con- 
fidant; nothing  was  hidden  from  him,  and  his  letter  to  my 
brother  Everett,  in  August,  1896,  expresses  only  what  we 
all  know  to  be  the  inmost  sentiments  of  the  writer.  Refer- 
ring to  my  father’s  death,  he  says:  — “ After  fifty-two  years  of 
unbroken  friendship  the  earthly  bond  has  separated.  New 
generations  with  fresh  struggles  to  engage  in  ever  advance 
and  sweep  away  many  of  the  memories  of  individual  lives, 
even  when  these  have  been  the  most  eminent.  ...  It  would 
be  a real  loss  to  the  world  if  your  father’s  manly  straight- 
forwardness and  his  fearless  sense  of  honour  should  ever 
cease  to  be  remembered.  There  are  men  who  never 
challenge  criticism,  because  they  have  no  sense  of  individual 
independence.  My  old  friend  was  different,  and  he  justified 
all  his  courses  by  loyalty  and  consistency  as  well  as  courage 
— - the  courage  of  a true  conscience.  As  a painter  of  subtle 
perfection,  while  his  works  last  they  will  prove  the  supreme 
character  of  his  genius,  and  this  will  show  more  conspicuously 
when  the  mere  superficial  tricksters  in  Art  have  fallen  to  their 
proper  level.’ 


CHAPTER  XII 


1865-1880 


Three  historic  gatherings — The  parties  at  Strawberry  Hill — Millais’  personal 
friends  — Letters  from  D’Epine,  Luder  Barnay,  and  Jan  van  Beers  — Mrs. 
Jopling-Rowe’s  recollections  of  Millais  — O’Neil,  painter  and  poet  — Fred 
Walker — Professor  Owen  — Robert  Browning  — Browning  on  the  art  of  poetry 
— Visit  to  Marochetti. 


DESULTORY  chapter  this  — a thing  of  shreds  and 


patches — needful,  however,  as  an  introduction  to  in- 
timate friends  of  Millais  not  yet  noticed  in  these  pages,  and 
interesting  perhaps  as  a reminder  of  some  historic  events  in 
the  lives  of  others  with  whom  during  this  period  he  came  into 


Three  historic  gatherings  my  mother  was  wont  to  describe 
as  making  a great  impression  on  her  mind.  The  first  at 
which  she  and  my  father  were  present  was  at  Stafford  House, 
where  the  late  Duke  of  Sutherland  gave  a grand  ball  in 
honour  of  General  Garibaldi,  who  was  then  on  a visit  to 
this  country.  The  great  soldier,  wearing  as  in  Italy  the 
red  shirt  ever  since  associated  with  his  name,  entered  the 
ball-room  with  the  Duchess  of  Sutherland  on  his  arm,  and 
was  greeted  by  all  present  with  the  homage  due  to  Royalty 
as  he  passed  down  the  room,  stopping  here  and  there  for  a 
moment’s  talk  with  some  of  the  guests.  Very  striking  was 
the  expression  of  his  face,  at  once  so  earnest  and  so  genial ; 
and  still  more  conspicuous  was  the  contrast  between  his 
simple  dress  and  the  gorgeous  array  of  all  the  rest  of  the 
company. 

Some  time  after  that  came  the  reception  given  at  the 
Foreign  Office  to  the  grandfather  of  the  present  Czar  of 
Russia,  whom  my  mother  described  as  a very  sad  and 
dignified-looking  man.  They  had  the  honour  of  being  pre- 
sented to  him,  and  soon  after  his  return  to  Russia,  for  which 
he  set  out  on  the  following  day,  the  cause  of  his  sadness  was 
1 — 27  417 


contact. 


4i 8 JOHN  EVERETT  MILLAIS 

only  too  painfully  manifested.  At  a dinner  party  at  Mr. 
Cyril  Flower’s  (now  Lord  Battersea),  at  which  they  were 
present,  a telegram  from  Miss  Corrie  was  handed  to  one  of  the 
guests,  Lord  Rowton,  announcing  an  attack  on  the  life  of  the 
Czar,  whose  escape  uninjured  was  little  short  of  miraculous. 
I he  would-be  assassin  had  placed  an  infernal  machine  under 
the  floor  of  the  Imperial  dining-room,  timed  to  blow  up 
immediately  after  the  entrance  of  the  Czar  and  his  suite,  which 
always  took  place  at  the  same  hour.  It  happened,  however, 


SKETCHES  FOR  “THE  PRINCE  CARRYING  THE  PRINCESS  UP  THE  HILL” 

that  Prince  Alexander  of  Bulgaria  being  late  for  dinner  on 
this  particular  evening,  the  Imperial  party  waited  a quarter 
of  an  hour  for  him,  and  during  this  time  the  bomb  ex- 
ploded, making  a complete  wreck  of  the  dining-room,  but 
happily  doing  no  further  injury.  It  was  a doomed  life, 
however,  that  he  carried,  and  he  knew  it.  A year  later  the 
assassins  returned  to  their  ghastly  work,  and,  sad  to  say, 
succeeded. 

The  third  occasion  to  which  my  mother  referred  was  the 
State  ball  given  in  honour  of  the  Shah  of  Persia.  The 
Shah,  as  is  well  known,  lias  a grand  collection  of  jewels, 
including  some  of  the  finest  the  world  has  ever  seen;  but 
even  he  must  have  been  astonished  by  the  wondrous  display 
of  diamonds  that  met  his  eyes  that  night.  About  800  tiaras 
were  worn  by  the  ladies  present,  who  were,  perhaps,  not 


“THE  MINUET.”  1866 

By  permission  0/ H.  Graves  and  Son 


COUNTESS  OF  WALDEGRAVE 


421 

altogether  unwilling  to  show  him  what  old  England  could 
do  in  that  way. 

Strawberry  Hill,  Twickenham,*  was  one  of  the  most 
interesting  places  at  which,  during  the  seventies,  my  father 
and  mother  were  privileged  guests,  and  many  were  the 
pleasant  days  they  spent  there.  It  was  then  the  seat  of 
Frances,  Countess  of  Waldegrave,  a woman  of  singular 
beauty  and  great  natural  talent,  and  as  the  daughter  of 
Braham,  the  famous  singer,  very  proud  of  her  Jewish 
descent.  She  would  say  of  Lord  Beaconsfield,  who  was  a 
constant  visitor,  “ We  are  both  children  of  Abraham,  and 
he  will  do  anything  for  me.” 

Amongst  the  many  Art  treasures  there  was  the  famous 
picture  by  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds  of  the  three  Ladies  Walde- 
grave; and  the  Countess,  who  was  devoted  to  Art,  added 
largely  to  the  collection.  She  had  a long  gallery  built,  which 
she  filled  with  life-size  portraits  of  her  most  distinguished 
friends. 

Hers  was  an  eventful  life.  She  was  little  more  than 
sixteen  when  she  married  the  Earl  of  Waldegrave,  and  on 
his  death  she  took  for  her  second  husband  his  half-brother, 
Mr.  Waldegrave,  who  had  the  misfortune  to  be  arrested 
by  mistake  for  a murderer.  He  was  consigned  to  the  Fleet 
prison,  where  his  wife  accompanied  him  ; but  almost  imme- 
diately afterwards  the  real  murderer  was  discovered,  and 
he  was  set  at  liberty.  On  Ids  death  she  married  the  Right 
Hon.  George  Vernon  Harcourt,  and  after  many  years  of 
wedlock,  he  too  left  her  a widow.  Another  suitor  then 
appeared  in  the  person  of  the  Right  Hon.  Chichester 
Fortescue  (Lord  Carlingford),  whom  she  ultimately  accepted 
as  her  fourth  husband. 

Her  Saturday-to- Monday  parties  were  proverbially  enjoy- 
able. Rank  and  talent  met  and  mingled  there  on  equal 
terms  of  amity  and  good  fellowship.  Whoever  might  or 
might  not  be  there,  there  would  certainly  be  no  dulness  in 
that  delightful  house — none  of  that  horrid  boredom  that 
Society  is  apparently  so  fond  of  inflicting  upon  itself. 

For  mere  rank  and  fashion,  however,  Millais  cared  but 
little.  Talent  and  geniality  of  temperament  were  the  “open 


* Strawberry  Hill,  one  of  the  most  beautiful  estates  in  the  vicinity  of  London 
was  for  many  years  the  residence  of  Horace  Walpole  of  historic  fame.  On  the 
death  of  the  Countess  of  Waldegrave  it  was  bought  by  the  late  Baron  de  Stern, 
and  is  now  the  property  of  his  son. 


422  JOHN  EVERETT  MILLAIS 

door”  to  his  friendship,  and  that  he  found  these  qualities 
in  abundance  among  his  personal  friends  may  be  seen  from 
the  following  names  of  some  with  whom  during  the  period 
covered  by  this  chapter  he  was  more  or  less  intimately 
associated. 

Omitting  the  vast  majority  of  his  brother  artists  — for  the 
mutual  affection  that  prevailed  between  him  and  them  will 
be  seen  later  on  — I note  amongst  eminent  literary  men 
Whyte  Melville,  William  Black,  George  Meredith,  Gilbert, 

Pinero,  Tom  Taylor,  Charles 
Reade,  Wilkie  Collins,  Mark 
Twain  (Samuel  Clemens),  Bret 
Harte,  DuMaurier,  Archdeacon 
Farrar,  Hamilton  Aide,  Rhoda 
Broughton,  Henry  James,  John 
Forster,  Matthew  Arnold,  and 
Robert  Browning. 

Amongst  the  scientific  men 
his  principal  friends  were  Sir 
Henry  Thompson,  Sir  James  Paget,  Professor  Blackie,  and 
Sir  Richard  Owen. 

Politicians  and  diplomats  included  Lord  Dufferin,  Glad- 
stone, Lord  Salisbury,  Lord  Rosebery,  Lord  James,  Sir 
William  Harcourt,  and  Sir  Clare  Ford. 

Army  and  Navy — Viscount  Wolseley,  Sir  George  Nares, 
and  Captain  Shaw. 

Musicians  — Madame  Albani,  Sainton  Dolby,  Madame 
Norman  Neruda,  Henry  Leslie,  Blumenthal,  Frederic  Clay, 
Arthur  Sullivan,  Corney  Grain,  Henschel,  Duvernoy, 
Essipoff,  Papini,  and  (last  but  not  least)  John  Ella,  from 
whom  there  is  a pile  of  interesting  correspondence  which 
of  itself  would  fill  one  of  these  volumes. 

Actors — Sir  Henry  Irving,  Johnston,  and  Norman  Forbes 
Robertson,  Wallack,  Joseph  Jefferson,  the  Bancrofts,  John 
Hare,  and  Arthur  Cecil  (Arthur  Blunt). 

Of  his  intimate  friends  more  particular  notice  will  be 
found  in  the  course  of  this  work;  but  none,  I may  say,  were 
more  beloved  lay  him  than  Sir  John  and  Lady  Constance 
Leslie,  and  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Perugini. 

Nor  must  I pass  over  here  the  distinguished  Spanish 
artist  Fortuny,  for  whom  Millais  had  a great  regard.  They 
met  in  Paris  in  1867,  and  during  his  subsequent  visits  to 
England  Fortuny  was  always  a welcome  guest  at  Cromwell 


HIS  FRIENDS 


423 


Place.  In  Rome,  where  he  finally  settled,  his  most  intimate 
friend  was  D’Epine,  the  famous  sculptor,  whose  pathetic 
letter  announcing  his  death  discloses  at  once  the  character 
of  both  the  sculptor  and  his  friend. 

From  D Epine. 

“ Rome, 

“ Sunday , November  22 nd,  1874. 

“ My  dear  Millais,  — I write  quickly  two  words  to  tell 
you  that  our  poor  friend  and  great'  artist  Fortuny  is  dead  ! 
It  is  like  a brother  I have  lost ! Since  twelve  years  I used 
to  see  him  every  day  nearly. 

“ Last  Sunday  he  was  well.  I passed  all  the  day  at  his 
studio,  where  he  was  showing  to  me  his  lovely  studies  from 
Portia,  near  Naples,  where  he  spent  all  the  summer;  and 
to-day  he  is  cold ! 

“I  write  with  tears  in  my  eyes!  What  a loss  for  Art, 
for  his  friends,  for  his  family,  for  his  country!  It  is  a public 
mourning.  Send  a word  to  Leighton  to  tell  him  this  sad 
news.  I have  not  the  courage  to  tell  you  more. 

“ He  died  (in  five  days !)  from  a perniciosa  fever  he  took, 
working  in  his  garden.  His  doctor  saw  nothing,  except 
yesterday  morning,  when  only  quinine  was  given  to  him. 

“ Yesterday,  at  three,  he  shook  hands  with  me,  saying, 
‘ My  poor  D’Epine,  I feel  I am  lost!’  He  died  two  hours 
after ! 

“ Now  is  gone  one  of  the  most  extraordinary  artists  of 
this  century  — the  chief  of  a new  school,  a good  friend,  a 
man  full  of  life  and  hope. 

“ I tear  like  a boy,  writing  these  lines.  I have  been  happy 
enough  to  make  his  bust  eighteen  months  ago  ! I send  a 
photograph  of  it  to  you.  You  can  send  it  to  the  Graphic 
or  Illustrated  London  Nezus  if  you  wish.  I authorise  them 
to  publish  it  if  they  think  proper.  It  is,  I think,  the  only 
portrait  existing  of  him  ! 

“ Your  friend, 

“ D’Epine.” 

Among  Millais’  distant  friends  were  also  Luder  Barnay, 
the  famous  actor  in  German  opera,  and  [an  van  Beers,  the 
celebrated  French  painter,  from  whom  he  received  the  follow- 
ing letters.  Barnay ’s  missive  being  the  first  English  letter  he 


424  JOHN  EVERETT  MILLAIS 

ever  penned,  it  is  not  surprising  to  find  in  it  some  reminis- 
cence of  “ English  as  she  is  spoke.”  The  letter  is  dated 
June  17th,  1881  : — 

From  Herr  Luder  Barnay. 

“ Dear  Friend  and  Great  Artiste,  — I have  promised  to 
send  our  repertoire. 

June  23rd  . . ‘ Jules  Cesar.’ 

„ 25th  . . ‘ Wolhlm  Tell.’ 

» 2?th  • „ 

„ 30th  . . ‘ Jules  Cesar.’ 

“ This  were  the  first  words  in  English  language  which  I 
read.  I hope  that  the  God  of  England  you  helpe  to  under- 
stand it.  Believe  me, 

“ Dear  friend, 

“ Your  sincereli, 

“ Luder  Barnay.” 

From  M.  Jan  van  Beers. 

“ 10  Rue  Delaroche,  Passy,  Paris. 

“Mon  cher  Maitre,  — Je  n’ai  pas  perdu  pour  attendre ! 
The  engraving  is  very  fine  and  artistic,  and  the  d'edicace  is 
so  kind  and  nice  that  I feel  quite  proud  and  happy  to  have 
that  sweet  souvenir  of  you.  There  are  plenty  of  painters, 
but  great  poets  in  painting  are  extremely  rare,  and  I consider 
you  as  the  great  poet-painter  of  o?ir  time. 

“ So  you  see  why  I am  so  happy  with  that  engraving  of 
that  Shakespearian  picture,  which  tells  the  same  tale  as 
Hamlet’s  famous  scene  of  the  graveyard. 

“ When  you  come  to  Paris  I shall  be  delighted  to  expect 
you  in  my  new  house,  which  will  only  be  entirely  finished 
in  November.  I hear  with  great  pleasure  your  health  is 
much  better  now. 

“ Wi.th  many  thanks  and  best  wishes  for  your  happiness, 
believe  me,  Respectfully  yours, 

“Jan  van  Beers. 

“ I shall  send  you  the  little  smiling  lady  ; but  as  I have 
only  one  small  proof  (I  promised  to  Mr.  Aird,  our  friend, 
not  to  have  the  picture  reproduced)  I shall  have  it  copied 
for  you.” 


“THE  WIDOW’S  MITE.”  1869 

By  permission  0/  Thomas  Agnew  ajid  Sons 


HIS  FRIENDS 


427 


And  now  to  friends  at  home  who  yet  remain  to  be  intro- 
duced. Amongst  them  was  a young  artist  named  Jopling,  a 
man  of  considerable  talent,  whose  progress  in  his  profession 
was  hindered  only  by  his  habitual  laissez-faire  and  an  in- 
ordinate love  of  amusement.  He  was  extremely  good- 
natured,  and  blessed  with  a sunny  temperament  that  infected 
all  with  whom  he  came  into  contact.  It  was  not  long, 
therefore,  after  their  first  meeting  in  1S54  that  Millais  and 
he  became  firm  friends,  and  when,  in  1S60  and  1S61,  they 
were  both  living  in  London,  they  saw  a good  deal  of  each 


STUDIES  OF  FROGS,  i860 


other.  Anxious  to  encourage  him  in  his  work,  Millais  com- 
mended him  to  his  friends,  and  frequently  got  commissions 
for  him;  but  “Joe”  (as  he  was  always  called)  had  other 
demands  upon  his  time,  and  in  his  happy,  careless  way  he 
attended  to  them  rather  than  to  the  real  business  of  his  life. 
He  was  a first-rate  rifle  shot,  a member  of  the  English 
eight,  and  at  Wimbledon  in  1861  he  won  the  Queen’s  Prize 
as  the  best  marksman  of  the  year.  It  was  his  success  in 
this  direction  that  Millais  refers  to  in  the  following  letter:  — 


To  Mr.  Joseph  Jopling. 

“ Bowerswell,  Perth, 

‘‘July  12th,  1861. 

“My  dear  Jopling, — I feel  bound  to  confess  myself  in 
error  when  I said  you  would  come  to  ‘ no  good,’  and  that 
I have  not  respected  your  wifle  * qualities  as  I should  have 
done.  My  sincere  congratulations,  in  which  Mrs.  M.  begs 
to  join.  I saw  your  chances  in  the  competition  increas- 
ing, as  I looked  daily  at  the  paper,  but  no  more  thought  you 
would  get  the  prize  than  you  did  yourself. 

“ All  yesterday  I was  out  fishing  with  my  two  sisters-in-law 

* Mr.  Jopling’s  R’s  were  all  W’s. 


428  JOHN  EVERETT  MILLAIS 

and  a party,  but  with  no  success,  it  was  so  terribly  stormy. 
Do  you  think  now  of  coming  North?  If  so,  come  soon  — 
before  I return.  I am  going  to  work  at  my  pictures  at  once, 
and  wras  very  glad  to  see  my  children  again. 

“Do  you  get  a cup  from  the  Queen,  and  ^260?  What 
a handsome  centre-piece  for  Mrs.  J.  to  smile  upon  during  the 
matrimonial  dinner  parties  ! Now  you  must  get  married  to 
an  heiress.  Don't  lose  time. 

“ Ever  yours  sincerely, 

“J.  E.  Millais. 

“ Don't  forget  Chapman  and  Hall  in  your  prosperity.  I 
remember  your  hitting  ‘Aunt  Sally  ’ three  times  running  at 
Mike’s  [Michael  Halliday’s]  long  range. 

“(Postscript  by  Mrs.  Millais.)  Best  congratulations.  I 
you  come  North  we  shall  be  very  glad  to  see  you.  Yours 
truly,  E.  M.” 

In  1873  Joseph  Jopling  married  the  lady  whose  work 
and  personality  are  now  so  well  known  in  the  Art  world 
of  London.  Millais  saw  her  for  the  first  time  in  November 
of  that  year,  and  wrote  at  once  from  St.  Mary’s  Tower:  — 

“ Dear  Joe,  — I thought  when  I left  you  you  were  a ‘ gone 
coon.’  I think  she  is  very  charming,  and  some  people  will 
say,  a great  deal  too  good  for  you.  ...” 

For  many  years  after  that  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Jopling  were 
constant  visitors  at  Cromwell  Place  and  Palace  Gate,  and 
many  were  the  pleasant  evenings  we  had  when  Joe  and  his 
clever  wife  dined  with  us  en  famille. 

In  1874  came  another  letter  to  Jopling,  inviting  him  to 
Scotland,  where  Millais  was  then  painting  “ Over  the  Hills 
and  P'ar  Away.” 

To  the  same. 

“ Erigmore,  Birnam,  Perthshire, 

“September,  1874. 

“ Dear  Joe,  — I am  working  now  so  hard  that  I am  never 
at  home.  My  place  of  work  is  four  miles  away,  and  I am 
working  at  other  things  outside.  All  the  children,  except 
George,  have  gone  South ; but  we  have  still  plenty  of 
young  people  here,  as  my  brother  is  with  us,  and  his  wife, 
three  children,  and  servants,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Gray,  etc.,  etc. 
George,  who  is  here,  caught  a beautiful  clean  salmon  yester- 


HIS  FRIENDS 


429 

day,  of  20b  lbs.  He  is  going  to  prepare  for  Cambridge,  and 
after  that  the  Bar. 

“It  has  been  very  hard  for  me  to  work,  with  everyone 
about  me  idle,  but  now  I must  buckle  to  in  earnest. 

“ My  wife  manages  all  arrangements  of  visitors,  so  she 
appends  directions.  We  have  had  Sir  W.  Harcourt  and 
James  here,  and  I dined  at  Lord  J.  Manners’,  and  met 
Disraeli,  who  is  charming.  Plenty  of  game  here,  and  a good 
billiard-table,  which  we  squabble  over.  Give  my  regards  to 
your  wife,  and  kind  remembrances  to  Sir  C.  and  Lady 
Lindsay,  whom  I would  come  over  and  see  if  it  was  n’t  such 
a tiresome  journey. 

“Yours  very  sincerely, 

“ J.  E.  Millais.” 

In  1S79  Millais  painted  a portrait  of  Mrs.  Jopling  — one 
of  the  finest  that  ever  came  from  his  brush.  It  was  most 
favourably  noticed  in  the  Press,  and  to  that  circumstance 
may  perhaps  be  attributed  the  following  letter  to  the  artist 
from  a stranger  — one  Mr.  George  R. : — “Sir,  — May  I 
trouble  you  to  tell  me  if  you  could  undertake  to  paint  two 
likenesses  from  the  enclosed  photographs  ? I should  like 
them  done  in  oil-paint  on  copper,  if  you  recommend  that 
style.  I have  some  others  done  in  that  way.  I should  be 
glad  to  know  your  charge  for  the  same.  The  portraits  would 
have  to  be  painted  entirely  from  the  photographs,  as  it 
would  not  be  convenient  for  us  otherwise,  and  I may  also 
state  that  having  a large  family  to  bring  up,  I hope  the 
expense  will  not  be  very  great.” 

What  Millais  thought  of  this  may  be  gathered  from  his 
letter  to  Mr.  Jopling,  who,  it  must  be  added,  was  at  that 
time  laid  up  with  an  ailment  affecting  his  legs. 

To  Mr.  Jopling. 

“ 2 Palace  Gate,  Kensington, 

“ July  22 nd,  18S0. 

“Dear  Joe, — I have  just  recommended  your  wife,  in 
answer  to  the  enclosed  [the  letter  from  Mr.  George  R.J, 
so  if  you  hear  from  the  writer  you  will  understand.  What 
maniacs  there  are  in  the  world  ! 

“ I hope,  old  boy,  you  will  be  soon  about  again.  I shall  be 
working  on  here  for  some  time  yet.  Got  your  letter  last 


430  JOHN  EVERETT  MILLAIS 

night.  Had  already  read  poetry  in  World  [some  lines  on 
Mrs.  Jopling’s  portrait,  entitled  ‘A  portrait  by  Millais’],  and 
did  not  quite  understand.  Lunch  is  announced,  so  I must 
go.  This  only  to  show  that  I am  not  insensible  to  your 
poor  legs. 

“ Yours  sincerely, 

“ J.  E.  Millais.” 

In  the  following  year  Mr.  Jopling’s  health  unfortunately 
gave  way  so  far  as  to  incapacitate  him  from  serious  work  as 
an  artist.  Some  lighter  occupation  must  therefore  be  found 
for  him,  and  mainly  through  Millais’  instrumentality  this  was 
secured  in  the  Fine  Arts  Society.  As  soon  as  Jopling  had 
obtained  the  post  he  organised  a small  exhibition  of  Millais’ 
paintings,  which  was  held  in  the  Bond  Street  rooms  in  iSSi. 
In  connection  with  this  Millais  wrote  : — 


To  Air.  Jopling. 

“ 2 Palace  Gate,  Kensington, 

“ March  \th,  1881. 

“ Dear  Joe, — I have  a great  objection  to  the  introduction 
of  other  works  of  mine  into  the  exhibition,  unless  it  is 
positively  necessary.  I will  write  to  Mr.  Graham  myself, 
rather  than  ‘The  Vale  of  Rest’  should  leave;  and  ‘New- 
laid  Eggs  ’ must  not  be  put  into  the  Gallery.  Time  enough 
if  another  set  of  my  works  be  shown.  I cannot  say  when  I 
can  begin  Tennyson  [a  portrait  of  Tennyson  that  he  was 
commissioned  to  paint],  I am  so  fully  occupied.  I cannot 
scamp  work,  and  unless  I can  do  justice  to  the  subject,  I am 
not  going  to  undertake  anything  new.  The  public  would  be 
the  first  to  cry  out  against  me. 

“ Lord  Beaconsfield  comes  on  Tuesday  and  Wednesday, 
and  I have  promised  Sir  H.  Thompson  to  begin  without  loss 

of  time.  I don’t  want  to  hear  what  old  X says  or  thinks 

of  my  work.  He  has  got  up  one  unsuccessful  Art  Exhibition 
after  another,  and  I daresay  is  growling,  albeit  he  has  done 
good  service  at 

“ Yours  sincerely, 


u 


I am  very  tired  and  want  quiet.” 


J.  E.  Millais. 


“THE  GAMBLER’S  WIFE.”  1869 


By  permission  0/  fhomas  Ague™  and  Sons 


HENRY  O’NEIL,  R.A. 


433 


The  following  letters  to  Mrs.  Jopling  are  characteristic. 
In  June,  1881,  she  lost  her  eldest  son,  Percy  Romer,  and  in 
December,  1889,  her  husband  was  also  taken  from  her. 


To  Mrs.  Jopling. 

“ 2 Palace  Gate,  Kensington, 

“ June  5 th , 1881. 

“Dear  Mrs.  Jopling,  — Sophy  tells  me  you  would  like  a 
line  from  me.  What  to  say,  more  than  that  you  have  been 
in  my  thoughts  ? 

“When  George  [Millais’ second  son]  died,  I felt  grateful 
for  my  work.  Get  you  as  soon  as  possible  to  your  easel,  as 
the  surest  means,  not  to  forget,  but  to  occupy  your  mind 
wholesomely  and  even  happily. 

“ Yours  affectionately, 

“ John  Millais.” 

Another  artist  who  was  frequently  at  Cornwall  Place  was 
Henry  O’Neil,  r.  a.,  an  intimate  friend  of  both  Millais  and 
Phillip,  and  a painter  of  pictures  that  seldom  failed  to  catch 
the  fancy  of  the  public.  He  was  a martyr  to  gout  and  some- 
what choleric,  but  withal  a most  kind-hearted  man.  A 
philanthropist,  too,  in  his  way  — one  of  the  Old  Club  type  — 
and  not  without  some  pretension  as  a poet.  Indeed,  much 
of  his  leisure  time  must  have  been  spent  in  the  writing  of 
verses  ; for  he  was  constantly  sending  them  to  Millais  or  his 
wife  with  a quaint  little  note,  such  as  this:  — “ I send  you  my 
latest  song — I hope  not  the  worst.  1 get  yearly  the  first 
primrose  from  a maiden  aged  seventy,  whom  for  thirty  years 
I have  reverenced  on  account  of  her  filial  duty.  Don’t  be 
angry  with  me  for  not  calling.  I have  not  put  a shoe  on  for 
months.”  This  note  is  dated  March,  1876,  and  the  tender 
sentiment  of  the  song  enclosed  in  it  strongly  appeals  to  me 
for  admission.  But  I must  limit  myself  to  but  two  specimens 
of  O’  Neil’s  muse. 

In  quite  another  vein  is  the  following  “ Reflection,”  with 
which  he  writes:  — “I  have  had  another  note  from  Froude 
anent  Mary  Stuart’s  last  words.  He  thinks  I have  not  made 
her  defiant.  I never  yet  heard  of  defiance  on  the  bed  of 
1 — 28 


434  JOHN  EVERETT  MILLAIS 

death.  In  the  picture  I am  painting  of  Mary  at  Loch  Leven, 
there  shall  be  no  want  of  defiance.” 

A REFLECTION. 

“ In  Youth,  I wandered  over  Westbourne  Plain, 

And  fed  my  eye  on  buttercups  and  daisies. 

In  Age,  I wander  on  the  path  again  : 

Daisies  and  buttercups  are  gone  to  blazes, 

And,  in  their  stead,  I see  a beastly  lot 
Of  stucco  villas  built  upon  the  spot. 

“ Thus  marches  ‘ Progress  ’ — ever  to  destroy 
(From  what  is  called  ‘ Necessity  ’)  all  things 
That  from  their  very  nature  gave  us  joy. 

And  said  cursed  ‘ Progress  ’ never  brings 
The  pleasure  which,  once  felt,  can  come  no  more. 

’T  is  easy  to  destroy.  But  — how  restore  ? ” 

O’Neil  was  fond  of  cards,  in  which  Millais  occasionally 
joined  him  at  the  Garrick  Club.  He  refers  to  this  in  an 
amusing  squib  on  sprats,  from  which  I subjoin  a few  stanzas. 


SPRATS. 

“ A wealthy  man  prefers  a Severn  Salmon ; 

The  poor  man  is  content  with  humble  Sprats. 
To  one,  aught  but  Champagne  is  simply  gammon ; 

The  other  is  content  with  Barclay’s  vats. 

Except  that  one  is  cheap  and  t’other  dear, 

What  special  virtue  has  Champagne  o’er  Beer? 

“ In  my  young  days  two  guineas  I have  spent 
On  models  — to  produce  a priceless  gem. 

To  gilder’s  hands  another  guinea  went. 

I looked  to  connoisseurs  for  gain.  Drat  them  ! 
For  when  I ’d  done  the  utmost  I could  do, 

1 sold  my  priceless  gem  for  two  pounds  two. 

“ That,  as  the  Proverb  says,  may  be  as  bad 
As  baiting  herring  just  to  catch  a sprat ; 

But  in  the  process  there  was  nothing  bad  : 

I lost  a guinea,  and  don’t  care  for  that. 

Making  a fortune  has  not  been  my  forte, 

And  men  must  pay  a trifle  for  their  sport. 

“ Poor  I have  been,  and  poor  shall  ever  be, 

Whilst  Millais  plays  with  me  at  ‘ Fifteen  two.’ 
Champagne  and  Hock  have  little  charm  for  me, 
Nor  Bass,  nor  Barclay  can  my  stomach  woo ; 

So  I rely  on  Leotia’s  whiskey  dairies, 

And  tone  their  potence  by  Apollinaris. 


PROFESSOR  OWEN 


435 


“ St.  Peter  was  a fisherman,  ’t  is  said, 

And  no  doubt  fond  of  fish ; but  yet  the  Sprat 
Judaea’s  lakes  tried  not,  nor  Sea  called  ‘Dead.’ 

I think  there ’s  something  to  be  made  of  that ; 

For  when  I ’m  dead,  with  Peter  I ’ll  be  even, 

And,  with  a Sprat  for  fee,  sneak  into  Heaven.” 

Fred  Walker,  the  famous  artist  (now,  alas,  no  more),  was 
also  a most  intimate  friend  of  Millais,  and  beloved  by  all  the 
family ; as  well  he  might  be,  for  he  was  the  very  soul  of 
goodness  and  human  sympathy.  Unhappily  for  himself,  he 
was  so  sensitive  that  an  adverse  word  from  the  critics  would 
crush  him  to  the  ground.  In  my  father’s  estimation  he  was 
the  finest  water-colour  painter  of  the  century,  a genius  of 
the  highest  order,  intensely  alive  to  the  poetry  of  Nature, 
and  supreme  in  his  power  of  expressing  it;  and  now  that 
he  is  gone  the  whole  world  seems  disposed  to  share  this 
sentiment.  His  favourite  amusement  was  fishing,  and 
during  the  seventies,  when  he  was  a frequent  visitor  at 
Perth,  this  was  his  great  delight.  It  was  at  Stobhall  that, 
under  my  father’s  guidance,  he  first  became  acquainted 
with  the  salmon  ; and  a bad  time  he  had  of  it  upon  one 
occasion.  While  fishing  off  a rock,  he  got  hold  of  a real 
big  one,  and  was  so  wildly  excited  that  he  fell  head  over 
ears  into  the  water,  and  would  probably  have  been  drowned 
but  for  a timely  rescue.  My  aunt,  Mrs.  Stibbard,  has  a 
delightful  drawing  by  him,  illustrating  “ The  Temptation  of 
St.  Anthony  Walker.’’ 

Again,  when  deep-sea  fishing  at  St.  Andrews,  he  had  a 
narrow  escape  from  drowning.  He  was  in  a boat  with 
Millais  and  his  family,  and  about  two  miles  from  the  shore, 
when  a gale  suddenly  sprang  up  and  drifted  them  towards 
dangerous  rocks.  Having  no  sail,  their  only  chance  of 
escape  was  to  pull  for  their  lives  through  these  two  miles 
of  raging  sea ; and  they  did  it,  though  the  hard  work  took 
the  skin  off  poor  Walker’s  hands,  and  he  was  quite  ex- 
hausted when  they  reached  the  harbour.  Habitually  nervous 
as  he  was,  on  this  occasion  he  never  for  a moment  lost  his 
self-possession. 

Then  there  was  Owen,  simplest  of  men  and  most  learned 
of  comparative  anatomists  — “ dear  old  Owen,”  as  we  used 
to  call  him,  and  rightly  so,  for  he  was  a friend  of  the  whole 
family,  and  his  kindness  to  the  younger  members  could 
hardly  have  been  greater  if  they  had  been  his  own  children. 


436  JOHN  EVERETT  MILLAIS 

Many  a time  did  he  take  my  brothers  and  myself  to  the 
big  museum  in  Bloomsbury,  and  discourse  to  us  on  subjects 
that  caught  our  fancy,  making  even  dry  old  bones  live 
again  under  the  spell  of  his  marvellous  revelations.  In 
his  own  house,  too,  at  Richmond,  he  made  us  heartily 
welcome  whenever  we  chose  to  go.  It  was  after  one  of 
our  visits  there  that  this  charming  letter  of  his  was  sent  to 
my  mother : — 


From  Professor  Owen. 

“ Sheen  Lodge,  Richmond  Park,  S.  W., 

“ December  22 nd,  1869. 

“ Dear  Mrs.  Millais,  — To  whom  can  one  open  one’s  heart 
but  to  the  young  and  guileless  ? At  least  in  my  den  here, 
where  I study  so  many  and  such  varieties  of  natures, 
affected  by  time  and  the  battle  of  life.  Ah  ! it  will  come 
quite  soon  enough  upon  them,  the  dear  lads  ! 

“ Well,  I 'm  glad  they  felt  that  I wanted  to  make  their 
visit  profitable.  But  they  must  be  iip  in  their  ‘Seven 
Wonders  ’ when  they  next  put  in  an  appearance. 

“ We  have  had  our  share  of  weather  damage,  and 
Caroline  is  now  laid  up  with  her  cold  ; but  I must  have 
laid  such  a healthy  layer  of  ‘ epithelial  scales  ’ on  my  bron- 
chial tubes  in  Egypt  that  I repelled  the  first  attack  of  frost 
speedily. 

“ With  every  good  wish  to  Millais  and  yourself  and  all 
those  about  your  Christmas  hearth, 

“ I remain,  always  truly  yours, 

“ Richard  Owen.” 


And  finally  Browning,  musician  and  poet  — “the  most 
unpopular  poet  that  ever  was,”  as  he  describes  himself  in 
one  of  his  letters,  and  yet  a singer  of  so  high  a merit  that 
a special  cult  is  now  devoted  to  the  study  and  dissemination 
of  his  works.  It  was  early  in  1862  — shortly  after  the  death 
of  his  wife  (Elizabeth  Barrett  Browning),  who,  like  himself, 
was  a distinguished  poet  — that  Millais  and  he  first  came 
together;  and,  as  might  be  expected  of  two  such  congenial 
spirits,  their  acquaintance  speedily  ripened  into  a firm  and 
lasting  friendship. 


/ 


MRS.  HEUGH.  1872 

By  permission  of  Mr.  J.  Orrock 


ROBERT  BROWNING 


439 


The  two  following  letters  will,  I think,  be  read  with  interest 
now  that  both  the  writer  and  those  whom  he  addressed  have 
passed  away  forever.  Browning’s  views  on  the  art  of 
poetry,  as  expressed  in  the  first  of  these  letters,  were  called 
forth  by  a letter  from  my  mother,  who  submitted  for  his 
opinion  and  advice  a poem  by  a young  friend  of  hers,  who 
had  some  thought  of  a literary  career.  The  second  letter, 
too,  demands  a word  of  explanation.  Browning’s  son,  Penn, 
having  determined  to  follow  Art  as  a profession,  my  father, 
who  took  great  interest  in  the  boy,  gave  him  all  the  help  in 
his  power,  and  (I  trust  I am  betraying  no  secret  in  saying 
this)  considerably  improved  his  first  picture. 


From  Robert  Browning. 

“19  Warwick  Crescent, 

“Upper  Westbourne  Terrace, 

“ January  7 th,  1867. 

“Dear  Mrs.  Millais,  — I hardly  know  what  to  advise 
about  the  poems.  All  depends  on  the  state  of  development 
in  which  the  writer’s  mind  may  be ; because,  if  these  pieces 
were  ultimates,  so  to  speak,  and  the  productions  of  maturity, 
one  would  have  to  say  that  in  Poetry,  by  ancient  prescript, 
only  the  best  is  bearable,  and  these  are  not  best  in  any  salient 
point  of  originality,  thought,  or  expression.  On  the  other 
hand,  if  they  are  the  beginnings,  really  and  truly,  of  the 
author,  I could  hope  for  a good  deal  in  the  end  from  the  very 
imperfections  of  what  is  given  here.  There  is  a distinct 
conception  in  each  piece  — something  the  writer  had  in  mind 
to  say  before  beginning  — and  the  working-out  of  the  same 
has  been  a matter  of  less  importance.  There  is  not  the 
usual  using  up  of  the  effect  produced  by  a sympathy  with 
somebody  else’s  poetry,  which  people  suppose  to  be  a spon- 
taneous effect  of  their  own  minds,  and  treat  accordin  giy- 
Above  all,  there  is  not  the  usual  singing  away  till,  perad- 
venture,  some  thought  or  other  turn  up  in  the  course  of  it ; 
that  is,  the  thought  suggests  the  tune,  not  the  tune  the 
thought.  But  there  is  hardly  more  than  the  impulse  toward 
the  right  direction,  I think  — not  any  so  positive  excellence  as 
to  make  one  cry  that  the  mark  is  hit,  unless,  perhaps,  in  some 
of  the  capital  verses  for  children,  4 The  Baby  House,’  for 
instance. 


440  JOHN  EVERETT  MILLAIS 

“ All  this  means  only  that  I am  certain  that  the  writer  is 
too  poetically-minded  a person  (let  the  worst  come  to  the 
worst)  to  be  consigned  to  any  rank  below  that  of  the  strivers 
after  the  best ; and  those  who  only  want  to  be  better  than 
this,  or  no  worse  than  that  of  the  hundreds  of  rhyme-makers 
‘going,’  might  honestly  be  complimented  on  the  prettiness  of 
such  a performance.  But  wherever  there  is  a chance  of 
getting  a bird  of  the  true  sort,  one  finds  the  heart  to  say, 
‘ Don't  twitter,  though  all  the  sparrows  do,  but  sing,’  since 
such  things  happen  sometimes,  and  then  we  get  a lark  or  a 
nightingale,  or  even  an  owl,  which  last  is  by  no  means  to  be 
despised.  Moreover,  you  here  have  the  opinion  of  the  most 
unpopular  poet  that  ever  was,  and  so  will  be  sure  not  to 
mind  too  much  the  sour  sayings  of  the  like  of  him!  If  the 
writer  continues  to  feel  and  think  as  earnestly  as  now,  and 
lets  the  feeling  and  thought  take  the  words  and  music  they 
immediately  suggest,  just  as  if  the  experiment  of  expression 
were  being  tried  for  the  first  time,  not  neglecting  meanwhile 
the  mechanical  helps  to  this  in  the  way  of  proper  studies  both 
of  Nature  and  Art,  as  well  as  the  secret  of  the  effectiveness 
of  whatever  poetry  does  affect  the  said  author  (not  repeating 
nor  copying  those  ‘ effects,’  but  finding  out,  I mean,  why 
they  prove  to  be  effects,  and  so  learning  how  to  become 
similarly  effective),  I don't  see  why  success  might  not  be 
hoped  for ; and  then  it  is  success  worth  getting. 

“ There,  my  dear  Mrs.  Millais  ! Could  one  but  help  any- 
body never  so  infinitesimally!  I give  true  good  wishes  to  the 
author,  in  any  case.  Very  faithfully  yours, 

“ Robert  Browning.” 

From  the  same. 

“ 19  Warwick  Crescent, 

“ May  10th,  1 8 78. 

“ My  beloved  Millais,  — You  will  be  gladdened  in  the 
kind  heart  of  you  to  learn  that  Penn’s  picture  has  been  bought 
by  Mr.  Fielder  — a perfect  stranger  to  both  of  us.  You 
know  what  your  share  has  been  in  his  success,  and  it  cannot 
but  do  a world  of  good  to  a young  fellow  whose  fault  was 
never  that  of  being  insensible  to  an  obligation. 

“ Ever  affectionately  yours, 

“ Robert  Browning.” 


MRS.  JOPLING.  1879 

By  permission  of  Mrs.  Jopling-R owe 


RECOLLECTIONS 


443 


Browning,  needless  to  say,  was  always  a welcome  guest  at 
Palace  Gate,  and  when  the  occasion  called  for  it  no  one 
enjoyed  more  than  he  any  bit  of  nonsense  that  might  arise. 
One  evening  after  dinner  the  guests  amused  themselves  by 
trying  who  could  get  the  most  words  into  a given  space  with 
some  old  stumps  of  pens  that  Millais  had  cast  aside  as 
useless,  when  Browning  produced  the  following  as  the  re- 
sult of  his  effort : — 

“ I sprang  to  the  stirrup,  and  Joris  and  he ; 

I galloped,  Dirck  galloped,  we  galloped  all  three. 

‘ God-speed  ! ’ cried  the  gate  as  the  gate-bolts  undrew 
‘ Speed  ! ’ echoed  the  wall  to  us,  galloping  through. 

Then  the ( illegible ) 

As  into  the  midnight  we  galloped  abreast. 

“Robert  Browning, />/«<?  4 th,  1882.” 

And  here,  I think,  may  be  fitly  introduced  a paper  by 
Mrs.  Jopling — now  Mrs.  Jopling-Rowe  — which  with  her 
habitual  kindness  and  consideration,  she  has  sent  me  as 
a contribution  to  this  work.  It  is  entitled  — 

“ RECOLLECTIONS  OF  SIR  JOHN  MILLAIS. 

“ The  first  time  I saw  John  Everett  Millais  was  at  one 
of  the  private  views  of  the  old  masters  at  Burlington  House. 
I was  walking  with  a mutual  friend.  ‘ Here  comes  Millais,’ 
he  said.  You  can  imagine  my  excitement.  I stared  with 
all  my  eyes.  My  friend  said,  ‘ Good  show  of  old  masters  ! ’ 
‘ Old  masters  be  bothered  ! I prefer  looking  at  the  young 
mistresses!’  said  Millais,  with  a humorous  glance  at  me 
as  he  walked  off.  My  companion  roared  with  laughter. 
4 There  is  only  Johnny  Millais  who  would  dare  make  a 
remark  like  that ! ’ 

“ I remember  his  telling  me  an  incident  that  happened 
to  himself.  He  was  dining  out,  and,  of  course,  sitting  next 
the  hostess.  On  his  right  was  a charming  Society  woman, 
who  evidently  had  not  caught  his  name  when  he  was  intro- 
duced to  her,  for  she  presently,  during  a pause,  started  the 
usual  subject  of  conversation  in  May  — the  Academy.  ‘ Is  n’t 
Millais  too  dreadful  this  year?’  And  then,  seeing  the 
agonized  contortions  on  her  hostess’s  countenance,  she  said, 

‘ Oh,  do  tell  me  what  I ’ve  done.  Look  at  Mrs. ’s  face  ! 

I must  have  said  or  done  something  terrible.’  ‘ Well,’ 
laughed  Millais, ‘you  really  have,  you  know.’  ‘ Oh,  please, 


444  JOHN  EVERETT  MILLAIS 

tell  me.’  ‘ Better  nerve  yourself  to  hear.  Drink  this  glass 
of  sherry  first.’  ‘ Yes,  yes  ; now  what  is  it  ? For  answer 
Millais  said  nothing,  but,  looking  at  her,  pointed  solemnly 
to  himself.  When  it  dawned  upon  her  who  her  neighbour 
was,  she  was  spared  any  confusion  by  Millais’  hearty  laughter 
at  her  mal-a-propos  speech. 

“ Millais  was  godfather  to  my  boy,  and  Sir  Coutts  Lind- 
say was  the  other  one.  We  had  registered  the  infant  as 
‘ Everett  Millais  Lindsay.’  I was  not  present  at  the 
christening,  but  when  he  and  my  husband  came  back  to 
the  house,  he  said  to  me,  ‘ Look  here,  Mrs.  Joe,  we  have 
called  the  boy  ‘ Lindsay  Millais.’  It  will  be  so  much  nicer 
when  he  is  in  love,  for  his  girl  to  call  him  Lindsay.  Lindsay 
is  so  much  softer  than  Everett,  don’t  you  think  so  ? ’ I 
only  thought  it  was  like  the  modest  delicacy  of  the  man,  who 
hated,  even  in  a trifle  like  this,  to  be  prominently  put  before 
anyone  else. 

“ For  many  years  he  came  every  year  to  criticise  the  work 
we  were  sending  in  to  the  Academy,  and  no  man  in  the 
world  has  ever  given  such  frank,  truthful,  and  kindly 

criticism.  ‘Yes,  yes,  very  good;  but ' And  the  ‘but’ 

was  invaluable.  Then  it  was,  ‘ Have  n’t  you  got  any  more 
work  ! I like  to  see  lots,  you  know ! ’ 

“ In  the  same  way  he  accepted  criticism  on  his  own  work 
— frankly,  heartily,  and  gratefully.  ‘Oh!  a fresh  eye  is  the 
thing.  Now,  tell  me,  is  there  anything  else  you  see  ? ’ 

“ Ah,  what  a genius  — what  a man  ! And  what  delightful 
moments  were  those  spent  on  Sunday  morning  in  his 
studio,  when  he  welcomed  any  artistic  friend.  After  talking 
pictures,  he  would  always  say,  ‘Well,  what’s  the  news?’ 
He  loved  to  hear  news  of  his  friends ; and,  unlike  most 
traffickers  of  news,  he  never  said  or  thought  an  ill-natured 
thing  of  any  living  soul.  He  always  recognised  the  good 
points  of  his  friends  as  he  would  the  beauties  of  Nature. 

“ When  he  made  a joke  one  saw  it  coming  in  the  humorous 
twinkle  his  eye  gave  forth,  as  when  he  said  to  me  when 
he  was  painting  my  portrait,  ‘Ah,  my  godson!  I never 
gave  him  a cup  at  his  christening,  so  I ’ll  give  him  the 
“ mug  ” of  his  mother  now.’ 

“ He  painted  my  portrait  in  the  extraordinary  short  time 
of  five  sittings.  In  his  generous  way  he  wished  to  divide 
the  credit.  ‘ Ah,  it  takes  a good  sitter  to  make  a good 
portrait.  If  you  had  not  sat  so  well,  I should  n’t -have  made 


RECOLLECTIONS 


445 


such  a good  tiling  of  it,  but’  — then  he  would  laugh  — 'I 
nearly  killed  you,  you  know!’  Lor  the  five  consecutive  days’ 
standing  had  really  knocked  me  up. 

“ The  Princess  of  Wales  said  to  him  once,  whilst  looking 
at  several  pictures  in  his  studio,  ‘ I wonder  you  can  bear 
to  part  with  them,  Mr.  Millais.’  ‘ Oh,  ma’am,’  answered 
Millais,  ‘when  I finish  a picture,  I am  just  like  a hen  having 
laid  an  egg;  I cry;  “Come  and  take  it  away!  come  and 
take  it  away  ! ” And  then  I start  upon  another  picture.’ 

“ The  Royal  Lamily  were  most  sympathetic  to  him  in  his 
last  illness,  I remember  coming  away  from  seeing  him  one 
day,  after  having  had  a one-sided  conversation  with  him — I 
talking  and  he  responding  on  the  slate  he  had  to  use  when 
his  voice  failed  him.  A thought  struck  me  that  it  seemed  a 
pity  to  erase  the  last  sayings  of  so  rare  a being.  I was  due 
at  a sale  of  work  at  the  Royal  School  of  Art  Needlework, 
and  at  Princess  Christian’s  stall  I looked  about  for  an 
appropriate  note-book,  which  might  in  after  days  be  held 
precious  to  those  (and  there  were  many)  who  loved  John 
Millais.  On  making  my  want  known  to  the  Princess,  she 
immediately  said,  ‘ Oh  ! let  me  give  it  him.  I should  like  to 
so  much ! ’ I asked  her  to  write  her  name  in  it,  which  she 
immediately  did,  and  I took  it  back  to  the  dear  patient. 

“ He  was  most  true  in  his  appreciation  of  other  men’s  work, 
and  preferred  that  which  was  very  highly  finished.  I think 
he  bought  an  example  of  Tito  Contis  simply  for  the  reason  of 
its  high  finish.  He  was  a great  admirer  of  Mr.  Marcus 
Stone’s  work.  I never  once  heard  him  disparage  another 
man’s  work.  If  he  had  nothing  good  to  say  about  it  he  said 
nothing.  He  was  always  delighted  to  come  across  anyone 
who  had  a love  of  Art.  Even  young  children  or  rank  out- 
siders he  would  notice.  After  a visit  from  them,  he  would 
say,  ‘Ah!  I noticed  So-and-so  had  quite  intelligent  views 
about  Art.  He  must  be  fond  of  pictures.’ 

“ His  power  of  aptly  illustrating  his  meaning  was  unsur- 
passed. When  I started  my  School  of  Art  I consulted  with  Sir 
John  about  it,  and  asked  his  opinion  as  to  whether  it  would  be 
a good  thing  to  teach  by  ‘ demonstration,'  i.e.,  to  paint  a 
head  from  the  model  in  one  sitting  before  the  pupils.  ‘ Why, 
of  course,’  said  Millais,  ‘ that  is  the  best  way.  If  I wanted 
to  teach  a man  how  to  play  billiards,  I would  n’t  correct  each 
stroke  he  made  ; I would  take  the  cue  myself  and  show  him 
how  to  hit  the  ball.’  L.  Jopling-Rowe.” 


446  JOHN  EVERETT  MILLAIS 

A little  reminiscence  of  sport  a la  Fran^aise  may  fitly 
conclude  this  desultory  chapter.  In  the  early  seventies 
Millais  and  la  is  wife  were  staying  with  Baron  Marochetti  at 
his  place,  the  Chateau  de  Vaux,  near  Passy  — a fine  old  castle 
in  admirable  preservation  that  recalled,  as  my  mother  used  to 
say,  “ Four  grey  walls  and  four  grey  towers  overlooking  a 
space  of  flowers.”  Knowing  Millais’  love  of  sport,  the  Baron 
got  up  a shooting  party  for  him,  aided  by  his  eldest  son, 
Maurice,  now  the  Italian  Ambassador  to  Russia. 

Early  in  the  morning  the  whole  house  was  awakened  with 
the  tootling  of  horns  and  the  barking  of  dogs  ; and  greatly 
amused  were  the  guests  when,  on  going  to  the  windows,  they 
discovered  the  meaning  of  this  excitement.  It  was  all  in 
honour  of  “ Brer  Rabbit.”  Ferrets  had  already  paid  him  a 
visit,  and  now  he  was  to  be  waited  on  by  the  owner  of  the 
castle  and  his  friends,  who  were  at  that  moment  assembled 
in  the  courtyard,  attired  in  gorgeous  Lincoln-green  coats, 
high  boots  with  tassels,  slouch  hats  with  feathers,  and  every 
man  of  them  with  a huge  curly  horn  slung  on  his  back,  to 
say  nothing  of  a cartridge-belt  and  a gun. 

At  the  appointed  time,  when  everyone  was  down  and  had 
breakfasted,  the  party  adjourned  to  the  scene  of  action.  Each 
sportsman  was  provided  with  a kitchen  chair  at  the  position 
favorable , and  there  he  sat  and  awaited  his  prey.  Then 
bang  went  the  gun,  and  if  successful  the  gunner  proclaimed 
the  fact  by  a performance  on  his  horn.  Such  is  (or  was) 
“sport,”  as  translated  into  P'rench.  Vive  la  chasse ! 


END  OF  VOL  i 


GETTY  CENTER  LIBRARY  MAIN 

ND  497  M56  M5  B<S  ' 

l.  1 c 1 Millais.  John  Gullle 

The  life  and  letters  of  Sir  John  Everett 


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